Keep Holding On: Fly
by Sokai
Summary: Sometimes it pays to stand out above the rest. . . . BASED UPON THE "A che Servono gli Amici?" AND "Miss Magix," EPISODES FROM SEASON ONE
1. Part I: Keep Holding On

**Keep Holding On: Fly**

**By: Sokai**

**Disclaimer: **I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the Italian animated television series, Winx Club -- I leave _that_ honor up to Iginio Straffi as well as the producers of Rainbow S.p.A. Nor do I own the songs, "Keep Holding On," by Avril Lavigne, or "Fly," by Hilary Duff. However, I can and DO claim to own this story, in addition to its inspired ideas FROM said series.

Note: _First off, thanks very much to the few who have checked out/read my "Dreams" Winx Club story. Much obliged, especially since it was my very first Winx Club-anything, writing/story wise. Anyhow, since that's a "success" thus far (and some of you are hoping I DO go ahead and do the Bloom p.o.v. semi-follow up to it), I thought I'd write another one, but about my favorite non-Winx Club girl, Mirta. I love her to death, and I don't see a lot of stories about her in here, save one that's my absolute fave (and needs to be updated!! LoL). This one's primarily about her, and her "inner journey" in finding her true self (which obviously turned out to be a fairy vs. a witch). However, it's a "two-parter" one-shot because it also involves her pal, Lucy._

_So, enjoy this story (that draws inspiration from season one, episode seven, "A che Servono gli Amici?" as well as episode twelve, "Miss Magix," also from season one).  
_

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This story was created/written in May 2007.

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"They are too _cool_ . . . _Way_ too cool for _this_ school, _that's_ for sure . . ."

The young freshman witch, Mirta, could hear her greatest friend since early childhood, Lucy, once again gush within a dreamy-like exuberance, in reflection of the infamous Senior Witch trio, Icy, Darcy, and Stormy.

It was lunch time at Cloudtower, and the entire student body were all gathered within the dimly lit, tier-like cafeteria (that was magically enhanced, to appropriately accommodate every last witch in attendance at once).

_As_ always, since it seemed as though the Cloudtower students seemed to take pride in the concept of hierarchy, both Mirta and Lucy were naturally seated within one of the lower level tables of the dining hall for the sole fact that they were freshmen.

And, _also_ as a familiar routine in seating arrangement, the Trix Sisters, as seniors, sat atop one of the highest levels, despite the fact that they very rarely ate what was offered upon the daily menu (although today seemed to be an exception, as all three were partaking within an honest meal with one another).

_Probably because they just want to keep up in __appearances__, so that the people who worship the ground they walk upon can __fawn__ over them -- like __Lucy_ thought Mirta in a bit of acknowledged disturbance, looking up from her tray of today's offered meal of _"Antlion and Horned Troll"_ stew (of which, she had learned the hard way, during her first week at Cloudtower, that the dish was "disgusting" by name _only_, and was nothing more than a pretty tasty concoction of some type of meat and rather strong spices. If she'd have known that, perhaps she might have been able to spare herself the embarrassment when she'd publicly declined to eat it with abundant horror . . .).

What _was_ it about Icy and her compatriots that continued to captivate the taller, teal haired girl so? From what _Mirta_ could see (and had witnessed on several various occasions), the Trix triad were one of the most mean spirited individuals she had ever encountered -- if _not_ the _most_.

_I mean, I __know__ that we witches don't exactly have the __greatest__ reputation for being "cute and cuddly" or something, but we're __also__ not evil to the core, either . . . At least . . . we're not __supposed__ to be . . . _thought the redhead with aggrieved and honest wonder, her peaceful, shimmery turquoise colored eyes gazing back down at her half eaten meal. _Why would Lucy have respect for people who always seem to harbor ill intent?_

And, before she could stop herself from doing so, Mirta, still peering down at her lunch, heard herself blurting out to her best friend from across the table,

"Lucy . . . I don't _get_ it! _All _you seem to talk about lately is how _cool _and _great _Icy, Darcy and Stormy are. Yet, whenever I'm with you and we happen to run into them, they're _always _dissing on you! You don't _deserve_ that," she finished quietly, although with a fair amount of strong conviction sounding within her voice.

Shy and quiet as she may be, Mirta still managed to maintain her consistency in being no pushover whenever it came to things and people she cared about -- and, of course, _Lucy_ was of no exception.

_You're not alone  
Together we stand  
I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand  
When it gets cold  
And it feels like the end  
There's no place to go  
You know I won't give in  
No I won't give in_

Regardless, none of what had been uttered seemed to have penetrated through Lucy's cranium, let alone her eardrums, for she merely continued to stare, without blinking, up at the witches in question with a bit of longing shining forth from her powder blue colored gems.

"I'll bet that, if they really _wanted_ to, they could _easily _run this school _way_ better than Professor Griffin _ever_ could," she said with an admirable expression riddled upon her face. "What I _wouldn't_ give to be one of them . . . a part of the senior witches . . ."

Mirta instantly felt her heart sting with an overwhelming feeling of betrayal. Obviously, she'd been aware for a while now that Lucy was desperate to be noticed and accepted by the Trix Sisters, but was Lucy simultaneously _that_ miserable with her life and with everything and _everyone_ within it, that she would be willing to discard it _all_ at the drop of a hat if ever given the opportunity?

"Oh, Lucy . . . _no_ . . ." Mirta murmured sadly to herself, all of her emotions and loyalty to her friend filtering out of her words as she continued looking upon her.

_Keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through  
Just stay strong  
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you  
There's nothing you could say  
Nothing you could do  
There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
So keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

Suddenly, Mirta found herself unable to concentrate upon her increasingly emotional ruminations, as Stormy's distinctly condescending voice grew profusely loud, due to an apparently heated conversation with her comrades.

"Those pixie _losers_ had the _nerve _to sneak onto _our_ turf, and we just _let_ them get _away!_" Mirta looked up in time to watch the youngest of the three Trix Sisters exclaim feverishly, her frizzy and chaotic deep lilac colored hair bouncing upon her bare shoulders as she stood from her seat and slammed a fist down onto her shared lunch table in rage.

"A _real _witch would not let such an offense go _unpunished!_" chimed in the most calm of the trio (although _just_ as devious and cunning), Darcy, next to the younger girl, raising her left hand in front of her before clenching it tightly into a balled up fist of her own.

"And neither shall _we_, my dear Darcy . . ." said Icy in cryptic agreement, smiling a patented chilling smile from across the table at her fellow witches, while idly waving her fork within her slender right hand. "Since the power of the dragon is not within the Solaria ring, _we'll _go find the _true_ source of power and then _use_ it to destroy their _entire_ school!"

Although she'd been pretty preoccupied with everything and anything that had to do with the Senior Witches, and what they'd been randomly discussing here and there up until that moment, Lucy immediately snapped out of her idolizing reverie the moment she'd listened in to hear the older girls say the words "pixie," "Solaria," and "their entire school."

For, tall, skinny young girl was all too cognizant of the fact that, if _she_ could hear what the Trix were saying, then so _too_ could _Mirta_ (which meant that she was most likely now feeling her usual, sympathetic views about the fairies of Alfea College).

Sure enough, as Lucy swiftly averted her gaze away from Icy and onto her best friend seated across from her, she'd witnessed an extremely perplexed, as well as faintly perturbed look upon the crimson haired girl's face.

"Oh, _God_ . . . _Don't_ tell me that you're now feeling all _lovey-dovey_ towards those Alfea _losers_ again, Mirta," hissed Lucy in scolding discourtesy at the young teenager, startling her in the process.

"H-_huh?_ What're you talking about, Lucy? I was just --" started Mirta, her milky white visage crumpling into one of guilt and apprehension, before Lucy swiftly interrupted her.

"Oh, _please! _I know you better than you give me credit for sometimes. Anytime that Icy, Darcy, or Stormy -- or any _other _witch, for that matter -- rags on those _stupid_ fairies, you _always _have to get so _sensitive_ about it!" she scoffed, pointing her spoon in a bit of accusation towards the younger girl. "Why should you _care?_ You're _not_ a fairy -- you're a _witch!_ It's just what we witches _do_: Call out the 'goodness and light' pixies for the weak, immature _brats_ that they _are_, and _they_ run _off_, _crying_ about it! So, get _over_ it!"

Feeling a bit blameworthy, herself, for her harsh outburst (not to mention sounding a bit like something _Stormy_ would have said . . . however, simultaneously feeling a bit _proud_ by that realization, admittedly), Lucy exhaled heavily as she looked away from Mirta's taken aback demeanor and focused upon the meal in front of her.

_Suddenly, I find myself unable to understand this girl more and __more__ as each day passes_, she thought solemnly to herself, the frown upon her creamy countenance beginning to soften a bit. _I mean, the way she __acts__, and the things that she __says__ sometimes, it's like she's a fairy in witch's clothing, so to speak . . . Where has the Mirta I used to know gone?_

_So far away  
I wish you were here  
Before it's too late, this could all disappear_

Meanwhile, as hurt and shocked as Mirta was now feeling by her oldest friend's harsh words, she could not and _would_ not feel culpable about her views and opinions of Alfea College (that were so _abundantly_ considered "unique" in comparison to the rest of her Cloudtower compatriots) any longer. Even though it was clear that she and Lucy parted ways upon the issue (and perhaps always would, she feared), the tiny cardinal haired girl felt an abrupt surge of courage coursing throughout her body, as though drawing strength from the older girl.

Feeding off of this sudden and slightly infrequent burst of energy, Mirta slowly stood from her seat, a faint smile spreading across her pale visage as she spoke to the brooding teenager seated before her.

". . . You may think that it's just 'okay' for us to continue on like this -- waging some sort of _whacked_ out war against the fairies -- but _I _don't. _I_ think that we should be trying to get _along_ with them instead, since we're _all _magical beings and are therefore _equal_ in that sense," she revealed a bit shakily, as this was the first time that she'd ever truly bothered to express how she felt about Alfea to her best friend.

Surprised at her friend's sudden boisterous disposition, Lucy looked up from her plate with widened eyes.

"W-whoa, _what? _Mirta, why are you standing up for? What are you _doing?_" she asked in honest perplexity, not used to witnessing the other girl be so forthright.

Mirta shook her head lightly as her only response, as she made her way around the table and stood before Lucy while at the same time gazing up a bit nervously where the Trix sat.

_I know that I'll __probably__ be in for it by doing this, but maybe if I try to appeal to the better nature of Icy and everyone else, then they might see things __my__ way . . . And with __Lucy__ here, even __if__ she doesn't back me up, I still feel that I can handle this_, she rationalized silently, inhaling deeply before speaking.

_Before the doors close  
And it comes to an end  
With you by my side I will fight and defend  
I'll fight and defend  
Yeah, yeah_

". . . _Why_ do we hate the girls of Alfea so much? I mean, that _seems_ kinda '_old _school,'" Mirta managed to interject, causing Icy to inappreciatively and abruptly stop mid-sentence within the new conversation that she'd been carrying on with her fellow sorceresses.

_So far, so __good__, Mirta. At least you've succeeded in catching their __attention__, hopefully __long__ enough to hear you out . . . __and__ maybe even __understand_, she self congratulated silently, forcing a slightly quivering smile onto her face as the three Senior Witches all peered down upon her with piercing glares.

"_Who_ is this _gangly_ freshman talking to me?" inquired Icy with a dismissive, indolent air, already turning her body away from the younger girl to further demonstrate her disinterest within her.

Regardless, Mirta managed to keep strong and continue on in her point.

"I'm just sayin' . . . I mean, in _some_ ways, I think Alfea's kinda _rockin'!" _she finished with an exuberant gasp, instantly feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment, as she finally and completely admitted what was within her heart in regard to the school for fairies. She could then feel everyone's eyes fall regrettably upon her, gazing down at her in wonderment as well as disapproval.

As uncomfortable as that felt, Mirta willed herself to only pay attention upon the surprising reaction from Lucy that she'd witnessed happening from the corner of her eye. She could see that, despite her _own_ obvious abashment by the situation, the teal haired witch was trying her best to stick by her friend and _also_ gaze up at the elder trio with pleading eyes.

_Although__, she __could__just be doing that in hopes that they won't clump her into this -- which of course would __kill__ Lucy, since she's dying __anyway__ to be noticed and initiated into their clique_, pondered Mirta with antagonistic unhappiness, before rapidly blinking her turquoise eyes as though to shun the thought away. _No. __Either__ way, I __still__ won't back down . . ._

_Keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through  
Just stay strong  
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you  
There's nothing you could say  
Nothing you could do  
There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
So keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

"'_Peace_ and _love!'" _the redheaded freshman suddenly heard Stormy say in an uncharacteristically sweet and soft sort of voice (startling both Icy _and_ Darcy in the process, as that act clearly surprised them, as well, the pair gazing upon the usually volatile girl in confusion), before slamming both of her fists down onto the table and caused her plate and cup to make clinking noises.

Mirta instantly felt nauseous and as though she would pass out at any second once Stormy burst out into raucous laughter, causing her tremendous following of admiring and fellow students to join in as a collective. She felt herself opening, closing, and re-opening her mouth to say something, _anything_, that would have them all stop within their cruel behavior; however, nothing would come out. She could only _stand_ there in horror, tears beginning to flood and sting at her traditionally kind eyes as they gradually became livid in frustrated offense.

_Is __this__ how it will always be while I'm here at Cloudtower? To be immediately __persecuted__ for any thought or emotion that doesn't follow the guidelines of the 'In Crowd?'_ thought Mirta in faint sadness, before the anger growing inside of her easily consumed it. She looked up at Stormy, dead in her eyes, with a generous frown screened across her face.

_Hear me when I say, when I say I believe  
Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny  
Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly  
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah_

"Who let this Wicca-_Wannabe_ in here, _anyway?" _Stormy managed to speak in between her continued laughter, gaily waving her hands into the air as she continued to enjoy herself at the young freshman's expense._ "_You're just so . . . '_alternative_,' _aren't_you? So -- cutting _edge! _'Let's all think_ outside _of Pandora's Box and _love_ each other!' _Not!" _she finished, her cruel voice returning to its vile glory, after first mercilessly imitating Mirta and her profound kindheartedness.

The unfortunate target of continued derision that was Mirta, felt as though the cafeteria was spinning and as though the walls were steadily closing in upon her as the incessant guffawing of her classmates reverberated against them and into and out of her ears.

_La da da da  
La da da da  
La da da da da da da da da_

"_Aww!_ The poor thing looks _embarrassed!" _said Darcy in false comfort as she stood beside the still laughing Stormy with a cruel smirk upon her face, snapping her fingers and causing a bit of magical friction in between them as bits of dark purple sparkles suddenly appeared. "Let's help her save some _face!"_

In the midst of all of the continued noise and ruckus, Mirta could distinctly hear Lucy (whom she'd honestly forgotten was even there for a bit, as the shock and pain of this mortifying misadventure was too great for her to think straight any longer) loudly gasp in what sounded like horrifying surprise from behind her.

Curious as to what could have been the matter, Mirta managed to muster up the remainder of her strength and courage to turn to face her friend, and instantly regretted having done so. For, the moment her field of vision was perfectly aligned with Lucy's, everything around her had suddenly gone . . . _purple? _Not to mention that she was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe, even _more_ so than to begin with throughout this horrid ordeal.

Terrified and no longer able to keep her eyes open, Mirta could only struggle fruitlessly with _whatever _was obscuring her view, as she fell backwards and blindly collapsed onto the ground.

No longer able to continue to just sit back and let her dearest and oldest friend be afflicted, Lucy swiftly sprang from her seat and rushed to the ruby tressed, incapacitated girl to try to help pull off the goo-like substance from off of her face.

_Keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through  
Just stay strong  
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you  
There's nothing you could say  
Nothing you could do  
There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
So keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

Unable to successfully free Mirta from the gelatin concoction that was clearly suffocating her, Lucy looked about the cafeteria in desperation for someone -- _anyone_ who would take pity and assist them within their plight.

"It's not _funny! _She can't _breathe!"_

_Keep holding on  
Keep holding on_

"_Stupid__freshman!_ 'Goo-Glob' only lasts a _minute!_" scolded Darcy with chiseled disgust riddled within her deep, husky voice as Lucy looked upon her and the rest of the Senior Witch trio in miserable condition and hope, at the same moment that the eerie congealing brew that'd encased itself around Mirta's face began to dissipate into nothingness.

Lucy could only look at her friend in helpless guilt while the redhead sat up, coughing and gasping for air profusely just as Professor Griffin's authoritative voice sounded into the cafeteria from above and behind the duo.

"_Attention_, witches! The _precious _princesses of Alfea have booked 'Magic Stadium' tomorrow night for some _wretched_ music concert! So, _our_ money for 'Monsters' Fund raiser' has to move to the elementary school auditorium! So, plan _accordingly!_ Worthless, Do-Gooding _pixies!_" the headmistress of Cloudtower announced bitterly to her pupils, before turning on her heel to leave and muttering the last bit to herself in increased irritation.

Professor Griffin's brief appearance had served as a blessing in disguise, for her news had given all of the sorceresses a new topic to focus upon, almost immediately forgetting all about poor, defenseless Mirta (who still remained, visibly shaken, upon the ground). Even the Trix Sisters had seemed to have lost their memory of the entire episode, as they stood, huddled together around their lunch table and were suddenly and curiously talking amongst themselves in hushed voices.

As she finally regained a regular breathing pattern, Mirta could only gaze sadly at Lucy, who, in turn, reciprocated the glance and said nothing . . .

_There's nothing you could say  
Nothing you could do  
There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
So keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through . . ._

**-- To Be Continued   
**

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_**(A.N. PRAISE JEEBUS, I've finished "part one!" Didn't think it'd be this "long," though, or that I'd have ended up using just about every quote within that scene. But I guess I had. At least now it should have been far more vivid and clear within your minds as you read this and recalled the episode scene. Now, onto part two!)**_


	2. Part I and a Half

**Keep Holding On: Fly**

**By: Sokai**

**Disclaimer: **I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the Italian animated television series, Winx Club -- I leave _that_ honor up to Iginio Straffi as well as the producers of Rainbow S.p.A. Nor do I own the songs, "Keep Holding On," by Avril Lavigne, or "Fly," by Hilary Duff. However, I can and DO claim to own this story, in addition to its inspired ideas FROM said series.

Note: _Thanks for the reviews thus far. Much obliged. And thanks especially to you, Dawn, for your compliment of how I put "a lot of love" into my stories. That was really touching, and one of the most wonderful reviews and compliments towards my writing I'd ever received. So thanks again._

_Explanation for the short posting is at the very end of this, so...yeah. LoL Enjoy.  
_

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This story was created/written in May 2007.

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It'd been several weeks since the regrettable cafeteria incident, and life at Cloudtower seemed to have returned to normal for Mirta . . . Well, as normal as it _could_ be, given that she was _still_ just as much of an outcast as before. 

Still, at least her fellow witches no longer seemed to care about the episode.

The _one _plus side to its happening was that Lucy seemed to have been cured of her inappropriate fixation upon the Trix, as she had yet to initiate Mirta into one of her familiar (and not to mention, _unfortunate_) conversations about one or all of them since.

_Which is just fine with __me__, because after what they'd done, I'm __seriously__ disliking them even __more__ than before. Besides, I still believe that Lucy deserves to be surrounded by people who will like her for who she is -- and from the looks of things lately, __she__ seems to be __finally__ getting that,_ she thought to herself tiredly, on her way to her dorm room after the completion of her afternoon classes.

Opening the violet colored door with a yawn, a small smile grew upon Mirta's pale face the moment her soft turquoise colored eyes rested upon the young witch in question.

"Hey, Luce! I was _just_ about to go look for you after first resting a bit," she said, closing the door behind her and walking into the purple and lavender schemed bedroom. "Those transmogrification spells _always_ take a lot _out_ of me! But I'll get the hang of it soon, right?"

Expecting her best friend to say some sort of teasing remark in jest, Mirta was surprised to see the teal haired girl continuing to sit in silence upon her bed. It was then that the cardinal tressed girl had bothered to truly focus upon Lucy's facial expression, and could see that she appeared visibly conflicted and nervous about something.

"Lucy? What is it?" she asked in prompt concern, moving swiftly to her friend's side and taking a seat next to her.

After several minutes without any sort of reply, Lucy at last let out a rather disgruntled exhale as she turned her body away from the redhead slightly.

". . . I'm gonna go to the 'Miss Magix' pageant tonight," she muttered softly, keeping her back to Mirta.

Mirta couldn't help but to giggle at this, as she'd honestly thought that her friend was merely joking.

"W . . . why w-would you want to g-go _there_, for? You've never struck me as the kind of person who'd _ever_ want to go to a place like that," she said through her laughter, causing Lucy to abruptly turn around to glare inappreciatively at her.

"Oh, what do _you_ know? I'll have you know that not _only _am I going there, but I'm gonna _compete_ against all of those 'goodie-goodie' _fairies!_" she revealed harshly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Mirta gasped sharply at this. This was _certainly _news to _her_. The Miss Magix pageant was one of the biggest and yearly events within the realm of Magix, and although it had always been open to _all_ magical beings, a _witch_ had never before entered, let _alone_ win.

So why would _Lucy_ wish to _bother?_

Leaning towards the taller girl in worry, Mirta rested a hand upon Lucy's lap before speaking.

"_You_ wanna be Miss Magix? I just don't _get_ it," she started, making a slight fist in unease and raising it to her face. She searched her friend's brooding countenance for answers, while her _own_ had grown increasingly sad, and her eyes shimmery.

"What's so _appealing_ about walking around a stage in a _swim suit?__Besides_, you_ know _they would never, _ever_ pick a _witch _to be the beauty queen of Magix! Why go_ through _that?"

Eyes closed, her facial expression growing more and more abashed, Lucy swiftly opened them and once again frowned at Mirta in offense and frustration.

"_Mmph_ . . . Magix is gonna have their _first __witch_ queen, 'cause _I'm_ gonna _win!" _she cried, raising both of her hands from off of her lap and balled them up into tight fists, before jumping to her feet and extending her hands out to both sides._ "I__cy_ said that she's going to _help_ me. She said that when she's _through_ with me, I'll be the most _beautiful_ girl in _all_ of Magix!"

Mirta could not believe what she was hearing. Not only was Lucy_ not _divorced from her unhealthy infatuation with the Senior Witches, but she _also _still seemed to be dwelling within her bouts of self-pity and loathing.

_Lucy . . . Will you __ever__ realize that you're so much more than you give yourself credit over? And how could you still wish to be their friend after what they'd done to me? _she thought solemnly, lightly shaking her head and escaping her thoughts in time to hear Lucy say,

"I'm gonna _get _that crown! And everything's gonna _change _around here!" she said with determination and with eyes closed, before clasping her hands together and placing them against her chest. _"_Icy, Darcy, and Stormy will _like _me, and _finally_ let me be _one_ of them! And _then_ I'm gonna be _popular_ . . . _so_ popular . . ." Lucy finished gently, a bit of sadness filtering into her voice, as she reopened her eyes and the smile upon her face instantly evaporated.

Having admitted her heart's dream to her oldest friend for the first time, Lucy felt completely rattled, and even a bit vulnerable -- which was a bit foolish, admittedly. If _anything_, she should have felt _most_ comfortable and confident with Mirta, than with any other witch on campus (as she'd known her the longest), in terms of revealing any and all of her thoughts and secrets.

_Not to mention the fact that Mirta has __far__ worse secrets and desires than __I__ do_, _and so cannot pass judgment_, she reflected silently with a soft sigh. _At least I don't want to __befriend__ the fairies whom I'll be competing against. I just want to __crush__ them -- and __will._

"_Hmm_ . . ." was the only sort of sound that Mirta could muster, as her mind was _far_ too overwhelmed with an overabundance of thoughts and feelings all at once upon the issue at hand. Would Lucy truly go through with this? Would she actually stand a fair shot at winning the pageant, since she _was_ a witch, after all?

And, _most_ importantly, what was in it for the _Trix Sisters_ to help out a "lowly freshman?"

Things just did _not_ feel right.

As Mirta gazed up at her roommate with progressing consternation, Lucy crouched down in front of her and gently placed both of her hands upon her own.

"All I _want_ is to see what it _feels_ like! Even if it only lasts for _one_ day . . .! _You_ get it . . ." she said with an uncharacteristically gentle edge to her voice, her powder blue eyes boring into Mirta's with a desperate plea for understanding.

It was so ironic to the crimson haired girl that Lucy now wished for her sympathy, when _she'd_ been unable to bestow it upon _Mirta_ for _her_ views upon Alfea and fairies as a whole.

As much as she wanted to say what Lucy clearly wished to hear, Mirta found herself unable to.

"_No_ . . . I . . . _don't_ . . ." she murmured softly, her voice reflecting a bit of confusion and apology, while her eyes shone with faint pity as she'd taken Lucy's hand within her own.

She knew that her response would only reward her with hostility from the teal haired witch; however, she could not bring herself to lie. As lonely and confusing as her life at Cloudtower could be for her, Mirta had _never_ wished nor yearned to basically sell her soul in exchange for notoriety . . .

Sure enough and as expected, an instant look of disgust plastered itself onto Lucy's face as she pulled her hands away from Mirta and heatedly stood before her.

"_Ugh!_ You're just _jealous _of me, 'cause _I'm_ gonna be 'Miss Magix,' and because_ I'm _gonna be all _that!_" she hissed vehemently, pointing an accusatory finger at a taken aback Mirta, before snapping her fingers in dismissal as she stormed out of the bedroom.

Mirta could only stare in shock and sorrow at the dorm room door that Lucy had left open in her haste.

"Lucy . . ." she whispered softly, exhaling as she averted her gaze from the door and looked down upon her shoes. "Why can't you _see_ that Icy, Darcy, and Stormy are no _good_ for you?"

**.§§§.**

* * *

**(A.N. I was not going to divide the second half of this story, but I actually will be too busy tomorrow to sit still long enough to finish it and post it in its entirety. So, sadly, this was as far as I could get for now. But that's okay, I guess, because I gather not a whole lot of you care for Mirta and/or Lucy, judging by the few reviews thus far. That's cool. But, as we all know by now or should, the rest of this particular episode heavily involved the Winx Club chicks, and I plan to involve them in the end of this story, as well as major fight scenes, which I seem to be good at. LoL So...yeah. Please stay tuned for the "exciting" conclusion, and leave reviews in the meantime. Thanks.)**


	3. Finale: Fly

**Keep Holding On: Fly**

**By: Sokai**

**Disclaimer: **I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the Italian animated television series, Winx Club -- I leave _that_ honor up to Iginio Straffi as well as the producers of Rainbow S.p.A. Nor do I own the songs, "Keep Holding On," by Avril Lavigne, or "Fly," by Hilary Duff. However, I can and DO claim to own this story, in addition to its inspired ideas FROM said series.

Note: _If it were up to me, I'd have renamed Mirta, since I don't find her "bitter" at all. Lucy's more bitter than she is, and her name as well doesn't fit her. Unless that was done on purpose to be "cute." You know, like "Oh, Mirta's so much like 'light' and Lucy's kinda 'bitter.' So let's swap their name to be in contrast to their personalities!" or whatever. LoL Anyway. Sorry. Thinking aloud and yes, still very obsessed with name meanings. Anyhow, t__hanx again for the few new reviews. To answer you, __Starlit Phantomess, and as a result, everyone else who might have been wondering, yes, I'm going off of the original version (that is, that it'd been Icy to reveal Lucy as part of hers and Darcy and Stormy's cruel prank against her, and wasn't Bloom to "debunk" the spell. Since I like Lucy, BOTH versions upset me, but I always found the 4Kids version to be more irritating and "messed up" since it was a "good and pure" fairy to have been the one to "out" Lucy and crush her dream. YES yes, we all know I don't like Bloom so much, yes. LoL). I'm usually more partial to the original version to any series I may watch, for the sole purpose that it was left untouched and as originally intended. _

_So sorry for the "spoiler" and sorry to those who like the 4Kids version (although, truthfully, I won't be using any of those scenes where the Winx chicks are helping Stella get ready, and that cute fairy botched up her hair spell, or voice spell in the 4Kids one, blah blah blah. Just read and see LoL). About the only thing that I will be using from the 4Kids version are a few lines of dialogue, but I've been doing that so yeah._

_Please enjoy the finale to this story, and with the accompanied track I've provided here (obviously get rid of the excessive spaces) to make it more moving (It made ME cry to listen to while reading over this story, anyway LoL):_

_h t t p / s o k a i . i m e e m . c o m / m u s i c / r f 2 Z d 9 z 6 / f l y /_

_P.S. Please don't leave a review, telling me things like how it seemed that the upcoming battle scene (yes, there is one) seemed to go on for hours. It's called dramatic building, and although this finale turned out to be 25 pages long, the battle really doesn't go on for AS long as some of you reading it might feel. Just trust me, okay? LoL Oh, and excuse the "stupidity" and/or "Are you serious?" moments within said battle. Just wanted to make it typical, predictable battling behavior these girls sometimes exhibit (that is, lower their guard, talk more than fight, etc. Y'know, stuff we real life people wouldn't really do because we're smart LoL). Did it for a reason._

_So, yeah. Enjoy._

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This story was created/written in May 2007, and completed in June 2007.

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**.§§§.**

Too worried and riddled with guilt over her lack of support to her best friend, Mirta had been completely unable to concentrate upon much else for the rest of the afternoon. And when early evening had settled in, she'd found herself feeling as though on the brink of a panic attack, as she'd known that by then Lucy had made her way to the Miss Magix pageant.

No longer able to take on anymore anxiety, Mirta had decidedly retired quite early for the evening, hoping that being unconscious would allow her a bit of reprieve from the sensations she'd been enduring ever since that afternoon and felt as though were gnawing away upon her stomach.

However, there had been no such luck.

For, it had been no more than an hour since she'd managed to fall asleep that Mirta had been ripped from her semi-comatose state, due to a rather startling dream. No, it had been more like a vibe -- an _omen_, more so, in regards to the pageant and Lucy's progression through it.

And so, no longer able to ignore her upsetting emotions and managing to successfully cast a slightly difficult teleportation spell, Mirta had transported herself to the site of the Miss Magix representation.

Letting out a soft gasp, Mirta felt a bit overwhelmed at the same time that she'd felt impressed by the girth of the sea green hued arena before her. She'd felt so small and insignificant in comparison as she gazed up in awe at the epic building, and watched the array of magenta, cyan, pale green and pale orange colored and individual spot lights illuminating the entire area, causing the stadium to appear far larger than life than it already had all on its own.

"Now I'm beginning to wonder why I'd never come here before," she murmured breathlessly to herself, honestly forgetting the reason while she continued to stand within the entrance. However, the moment she'd remembered that she was there for Lucy, Mirta simultaneously remembered the answer to her question.

"Because witches don't belong here . . ." she replied in compliance to her mind, exhaling softly in faint lament.

Regardless, none of that mattered at the moment. All that _had_ was the urgency to get inside, find Lucy to see that she was all right and, if she was, to apologize for their argument and lend to her reinforcement.

With her objective settled, Mirta took a deep breath and began to ascend the stairs and enter the building. Once inside, however, she'd felt instantly overwhelmed all over again, as the inside seemed to be as astronomical as its outside. And not only that, but there appeared to be doors upon doors, lining the vast halls before her, in addition to corridors laid out left and right.

"How will I know which way to go?" Mirta thought aloud, wishing that her lessons in her classes back at Cloudtower had gotten to the point of teaching about Locater Spells. Then she could have just cast it and found not only Lucy, but the audience where the pageant was being held.

"Excuse me? But are you lost?" Mirta suddenly heard an extremely soft, gentle and lyrical female voice sound from behind. Turning around in surprise, Mirta's turquoise colored eyes met with a pair of soft, lime green colored jewels that made her heart swell with mixed emotion (most of which being felicitous, for a change) to gaze upon them.

And it was _because_ those eyes seemed to only hold nothing but kindness, patience and love within them, instead of the usually cool, distance, and judgment that she'd witness within the eyes of the majority of the witch population back at Cloudtower.

_Her_ eyes, this girl's, however, were very much like that of _Mirta's_ . . .

". . . Are you all right, sweetie?" Mirta heard the young female with the inviting, warm eyes and long caramel colored locks ask in distinct concern, and felt her reach out a hand to rest upon her shoulder. It was then that Mirta realized that she'd just been standing there, staring at the poor girl without a word. It was _also_ then that she'd realized that nobody _this_ open, genuinely nice and compassionate towards a complete stranger _could_ have been a CT resident -- or a witch, in general.

Which could _only_ mean that this young woman happened to be a --

"_Fairy!_ Uh, I-I mean, _very_, thank you. That I'm all right, that is," Mirta found herself blurting out, before quickly covering her slightly rude outburst. She immediately felt her cheeks grow red in alarm, while the rather tanned brunette merely smiled warmly back at her. She did not seemed affected at all.

"Well, that's good, then," she replied with an even bigger smile, causing her eyes, that continued to dance with a fiery warmth and glow, to crinkle slightly. "Do you still need help getting back to the auditorium where the pageant's being held? I'd just come from the restroom, and admittedly found it a bit overwhelming to get there at all, as this place is rather large."

Mirta couldn't help but to return the kind girl's generous simper upon hearing this. She _also_ couldn't help but to feel extremely . . . at ease, and unafraid that she might be either disrespected or judged (which was how she usually felt back at her school -- and with great cause, as she generally always was the target for ridicule).

What a wonder a change in mere location (and not to mention, company) could manage.

Clearing her throat, no longer feeling as troubled as she had when she'd first arrived, Mirta nodded slowly in acknowledgment.

"Yeah, I'd felt the exact same way when I arrived just a few minutes ago," she said within a small, shy smile. "And thank you. I could _use_ the help in finding the auditorium. Are _you_ competing within the pageant? Oh! Wait! _That's_ a stupid question! That is, I mean, that you probably wouldn't be out _here_ if you were, right?"

As the pair began walking down the vast hallway in unison, the brunette did not make any sort of condescending remark that Mirta had honestly been expecting and used to occurring as a result of her debauchery, but merely giggled softly instead.

"Oh, no! Of _course _not!" she said with a wave of her bejeweled, slender hand, her tawny cheeks earning a generous rouge hue to them. "I don't think that I could _ever_ do something like this! I can be a bit _shy_ at times, you see . . ."

Mirta immediately smiled broadly at this.

"I know exactly how that feels. My best friend _always_ teases me for being the 'shy and quiet' girl at my school. So I highly doubt that I would ever be able to do something like this, myself," she revealed to the gentlewoman with the emerald colored eyes.

_Of course, even if I __weren't__ shy, I'd never be able to compete, __anyhow__, just because I'm a __witch_, she thought solemnly, before forcing the depressing thought away.

"Well, there's nothing _wrong_ with being reserved at times, sweetie. And I'm sure that the girls at your school appreciate you just the same," complimented the unknown teenager with a warm smile, gazing at Mirta while the both of them continued down the hall. "By the way, which school _are_ you from, if you don't mind my asking?"

Mirta instantly tensed up at this, stopping dead in her tracks. It would figure that, when she was finally sharing a conversation that was worth partaking in, it had to be tainted by her having to reveal which school she attended . . . or _did_ it?

"Um, why do you need to know that?" she asked awkwardly, earning a grand look of perplexity from the sweet girl at her side.

"Well . . . I _don't_ need to know. I-I'm sorry if I'm getting too personal, but I only asked because I don't think that I've ever seen you around Alfea College, which is where_ I_ go," she responded with an apologetic air, confirming to Mirta that she _was_ in fact a fairy. And not just _any_ fairy, but one who'd attended the very school she'd been hazed over several weeks before.

"Talk about _irony_," she muttered aloud before she could stop herself, swiftly raising her hand to her mouth while the other girl present merely raised both delicate eyebrows in curiosity. "T-that is, my _friend_, who's competing tonight, was telling me about the _other_ girls within the pageant and thought that maybe one of the fairies from _Alfea _might be a part of it . . ."

_Which is totally a lie, but I highly doubt that this girl would know for sure of who's from where anyhow_, thought Mirta in self-reassurance, at the same time that the brunette's face instantly lit up. _Plus, if this new choice in topic will help deflect where I go to school, then that's even __better._

"Oh, yes! Maybe your friend was talking about _my_ friend, Stella. _She's_ the one within the pageant tonight, and my friends and I have been lending her our full support by helping out with preparations," she said, resuming her walk with Mirta in tow. "That's where _I've_ been -- in and out of her dressing room, that is -- but excused myself to use the restroom once the intermission had begun. Of course, it should be over by now. We'd better hurry back inside so we won't interrupt or distract the performers."

Mirta could only nod slightly as she allowed the unidentified girl to lead her to the auditorium, due to once again being lost within her thoughts. She knew nothing about this girl _or_ her friends, but just by listening to her go on about them, Mirta could tell that they must share a tight nit sort of bond.

_Are __all__ of the fairies at Alfea as nice as this girl? __And__ share such super close relationships? If so, I actually feel kinda __jealous_, she reflected silently, as the nameless young woman pulled open the doors to the orange and magenta schemed, slightly packed auditorium.

"Well, this is where we part ways, I suppose," said the soft spoken girl after gently closing the door behind the two of them.

Mirta gazed at her in surprise, as though not expecting her to say such a thing.

"Huh? O-oh, right. Well, thanks for everything, then and . . . good luck to your friend," she replied, barely above a whisper as she began to make her way down the aisle to try to find an empty seat.

"W-_wait!_ Excuse me, but I'd never gotten your name, or introduced _myself_, for that matter -- I'm sorry," Mirta heard the female call after her, while people were randomly filtering into the area to await to pageant's resuming.

Mirta felt herself blush furiously at this. Would the caramel haired girl be able to tell that she was a witch just by her name, she foolishly wondered in a bit of paranoia?

Clearing her throat, the redhead smiled faintly and replied,

"Uh . . . Mirta. My name is Mirta."

The brunette fairy merely smiled generously at this, as she reached out and gently seized Mirta's hand to shake.

"That's a very pretty name you have. _My_ name is Flora. It's nice to meet you, Mirta," she complimented, releasing the crimson haired teenager's hand just as the lights within the auditorium began to slowly dim. "Oh! The pageant must be resuming! I'd better go find my friends before it grows too dark to see! Maybe I will see you afterwards! _Oh!_ And good luck to _your_ friend, as well!"

Mirta merely nodded as she watched the girl known as Flora cheerfully wave and walk off within the other direction of where the vermilion tressed witch had been heading. To see her again might have been an honestly pleasant occurrence, if Mirta wasn't so certain that either Lucy or the Trix Sisters would trounce her further for her affinity in regards to Alfea.

_Well, maybe __Lucy__ might.__ But only just because __I don't really think that Icy, Darcy and Stormy would be here -- even __if__they'd offered to help her_, thought Mirta with an intermingled feeling of relief and upset. It was then that her anxiety over her friend's well being was renewed, and her stomach began to churn with discomfort as she'd managed to find an empty seat towards the front through the increased darkness.

_All I have to do is wait until after Lucy comes out to perform or something, and then I can know for __sure__ if she's doing all right or not_, she believed silently.

Settling into her seat, sinking down within it a bit as part of her familiar, self conscious tendencies, Mirta looked up at the stage right when a tall, middle aged looking man within a white tuxedo and possessing short, slicked backmaroon colored hair and clipboard in hand took the stage.

It was in that same moment that she'd heard a familiar set of voices sounding directly in front of her.

"_Argh! _This guy is_ so_ getting on my _nerves!_"

"I _know!_ If I wasn't having so much fun sabotaging these _losers'_ performances, I'd have put a hex on him from the very _start_."

"Who says you still _can't_, Darcy? Once we've finished toying around with these 'Pretty-Pretty-Princesses,' we can cast a Silencing spell upon him or something."

Mirta gasped sharply, although thankfully not loud enough to draw unwanted attention to herself. She couldn't believe what she was hearing (or that she hadn't them immediately), although she wasn't that really all that surprised. Not only were the Trix Sisters here at the pageant, after all, but had been apparently living up to their reputation for being mischievous tricksters.

Although Mirta did not much care for the Miss Magix pageant, she did not really find it fair for Icy, Darcy, and Stormy to purposely destroy each contestants' chances at winning.

_Wait . . . What if that's what they've done or will do to Lucy, and had planned on doing so all along? To mess up her performance?_ thought Mirta in increased worry, about to stand from her seat to go find Lucy before it was too late, when the man on stage she assumed to be the MC began to speak.

"Erm . . . W-welcome back, ladies and gentlemen! I-I'm sure that the second half of our pageant will be . . . um . . . just as . . . _colorful_ as the first half!" said the man, light blue eyes twinkling with nerves and face crinkled in embarrassment as he slapped his left hand to his forehead in exasperation.

Now that she'd overheard the Senior Witches bragging about their accomplishments, Mirta knew that the MC was clearly referring to their corruption.

"Eh . . . let's move onto our _next _contestant! Miss Popularis . . ." finished the male on stage, just as a lithe, mesmerizing young woman within a soft yellow tinted tutu gracefully sauntered onto the now empty stage as he'd retreated.

Suddenly no longer able to move, Mirta curiously found herself feel as though entranced by the angelic looking creature standing a mere few feet away from her. There was something curiously . . . _familiar_ about the girl, whose flawless, creamy complexion, appearance, and abounding river of shimmering midnight blue colored tresses was the equivalencing embodiment and attributes of a goddess.

"Excuse me, but would you mind taking your seat, young lady? My wife and I can no longer see the stage," Mirta could hear an elderly man speak behind her, causing the redhead to blush at the realization that she had still been standing.

Waving her hand and inclining her head meekly in apology, Mirta reclaimed her seat at the same moment that the MC had _also_ replaced himself back onto the stage and stood next to the young, smiling beauty simply known as "Miss Popularis."

"_Her _realm is_ famous _for its gracious and _well_ mannered folk!" the man introduced, extending his left arm toward her while reading off of his clipboard with an awkward smile spread across his visage. "_And, _their regional dance, '_Hair _Ballet!'"

_Hair Ballet? I wonder what sort of dance __that__ could be_, pondered Mirta with a raised finger to her chin in curiosity, as she watched the MC take a small bow and once again leave the stage to allow the spotlight to both be literally as well as figuratively focused upon the confident and seemingly flawless ballerina who had taken center stage.

For the next five to ten minutes, Mirta's mental query of what precisely was a "Hair Ballet" could be had been answered, in addition to the fact that hers and the rest of the audiences' complete attention (negating Icy, Darcy, and Stormy, of course) had easily been captivated by the beautiful Miss Popularis.

Bowing gracefully with her ballet slippered feet within fourth position, the audience seemed to wait upon bated breath for the young fairy to perform her variation. The wait was not long, for within seconds did a lulling, almost hypnotic tune begin to reverberate into the atmosphere, and Miss Popularis gracefully rose and straightened her posture and position into en pointe, causing her flowing hair to sway gently behind her in the same instant that soft yellow sparkles curiously appeared and shimmered momentarily around her.

A warm, relaxed smile spreading across her unmarked countenance, Miss Popularis gently closed her happy, soft blue eyes as she continued on within her variation.

_I have never felt this free and confident before in all of my life_, she reflected happily in silence, allowing herself to become increasingly engrossed within her performance.

_Any moment, everything can change,  
Feel the wind on your shoulder,_

_For a minute, all the world can wait,  
Let go of your yesterday._

_For one moment, at least, every negative thought or worry that I've ever had is completely gone, and I feel as though I am capable of anything. And thanks to Icy, Darcy, and Stormy, it's going to stay that way. Everyone loves me right now, and always will after tonight, when I win this competition._

Eyes remaining closed, Miss Popularis, or, in secret, _Lucy_ then proceeded to get into an grand battement pose, with her left knee straight. Effortlessly lifting the same leg she then extended it behind her with support from her right. Meanwhile, as an accompaniment, her right arm protracted directly in front of her while the left was raised back along with her left leg.

Lucy at last then opened her light blue gems and exhaled in content as she swiftly grew accustomed to being the center of attention by the flock of audience members -- even by including Icy, Darcy and Stormy, now, she'd vaguely managed to make out through the dimly lit audience area.

_This is a __definite__ sign that things really are going to change for the better for me! Even the __Senior Witches__ had actually stuck around to watch me perform! They could have gone back to Cloudtower after casting this __rad__ spell on me, but they didn't. Because they __believe__ in me __and__ the newfound popularity I'm going to achieve! It's too bad that __Mirta__ couldn't feel the same . . . Some friend __she__ turned out to be_, she thought silently with abundant excitement, before overwhelmed by a bit of sadness by the final thought.

_Can you hear it calling?  
Can you feel it in your soul?  
Can you trust this longing?  
And take control,_

As the provided music continued to sound throughout the auditorium, the transformed Lucy (on various counts, both emotionally as well as physically) braced herself as she began to advance into the more difficult part of her solo dance: An allegro, as it would involve an arrangement of fast foot work, turns and jumps.

Smiling broadly, Lucy was only filled with an overabundance of confidence and pride rather than worry, as she continued on with her variation, elegantly gliding and prancing around the stage like a beautiful swan.

This was her moment.

Performing a bit of an Arabesque move, Lucy immediately moved right into and performed a perfect Grand Jeté, a long horizontal jump that'd transitioned into a midair split. As she performed this beautiful jump, straight across the stage, Lucy couldn't help but to softly giggle as she could hear, even over the music, several audience members gasp in delight at the sight -- and with good reason.

Under the bright, fantastic lights, coupled with the level of expertise she'd magically now possessed, the gorgeous ballerina seemed to be floating within the air as a result of her jump, and glided across the stage.

_Fly  
Open up the part of you that wants to hide away  
_

Landing gracefully onto the opposite leg that she'd taken off from, Lucy then raised her arms into third position, straight over her head, while twirling gracefully across the stage several times and causing her hair to wrap around her and continuing to "dance" right along with her as the glittery light gold illuminations mysteriously returned.

After another series of twirls, turns, and another grand battement or two, the young witch prepared for her finale, her supposedly "signature" move for which this particular variation had been named. Raising one leg straight up into the air, Lucy bent forward and gently seized her other leg as she proceeded to twirl within the same spot, causing her extremely long locks to effortlessly cloak around her body in the process.

_They __love__ me! Listen to everyone cheer and gasp in awe! I'm definitely winning this pageant!_ she gleefully thought, at long last feeling completely and _truly_ accepted.

After yet another series of elegant, breathtaking and seemingly impossible twirls that continued to cause her hair to swirl, in addition to more magical sparkles to surround her, Lucy at last finished her variation as she settled upon the ground with her knees hugged to her chest with her flowing tresses gently settling around her as a final pose.

Eyes closed a moment, inhaling deeply to catch her breath, a bashful, appreciative smile instantly spread across her tanned visage before transitioning into a rather generous simper, Lucy reopened them to look upon the audience, just in time to see the standing ovation she'd rightfully deserved.

_You can shine  
Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,  
And start to try, cause it's your time,  
Time to fly._

As the auditorium had instantly grown rather loud to the abrupt eruption of applause, courtesy of the duly impressed audience, the equally impressed (and not to mention visibly _relieved_, quite possibly because nothing _calamitous _had occurred) MC walked back onto the stage at the same time that Lucy had slowly risen to her feet.

Meanwhile, back within the audience and amongst the many people who continued to clap furiously, Mirta, the entire duration of the performance, could not at all believe what he had seen. That graceful, elegant and confident goddess of a ballerina had been Lucy, she'd finally realized.

_Her_ Lucy.

The generally recluse, typically sulking and _brooding_ Lucy, who'd never once seemed to possess much confidence for more than a second throughout all of the years that Mirta had known her.

_And now suddenly, here she is, looking far more beautiful than I'd ever seen her_, she pondered with a sad smile upon her face, feeling tears of mixed emotion filtering into her eyes. _But __not__ because of the spell Icy had cast upon her, to make her take on that form and perform such a breathtaking ballet. It was because, if only for right now, just like she wanted, she's truly happy without any sort of inhibition of what others would think of her if she allowed herself to be . . . But it shouldn't have to be for this __one__ moment. Lucy should allow herself to beam and be as wonderful __all__ the time __as she is tonight, and let the whole world see the beauty inside of her that I've __always__ known to be there._

As though on cue, Mirta's emotional and reflective thoughts were broken through as she could distinctly and unfortunately hear Icy (who, alongside Darcy and Stormy, was quite possibly one of the only people to have remained within their seat and not bothering to applaud) speaking before her, with an undoubtedly evil smirk upon her cool countenance.

"Little do they know . . . she's _really_ 'Miss _Outcastis_!'" she delivered coolly, causing a sharp chill to careen straight down Mirta's back and make her cease within her clapping.

_God!__ It's amazing how I'd forgotten all about my fears that the __rancid__ Trix trio might try to sabotage Lucy in some way_, she pondered in amalgamated anger and renewed concern, slowly sitting back down within her seat and worriedly tugging at the front of her shirt. _I don't think that they'll do anything to her __here__ or hopefully maybe not at all. But by their having helped her with the spell at all, Lucy's __still__ obviously going to be indebted to them in some way -- and __that's__ what worries me most . . ._

"_Ohh!_ Now,_ that's _what I call _talent_, ladies and gentlemen!" gushed the MC, who continued to stand beside the blushing and visibly overwhelmed Lucy throughout the roaring applause and waited patiently for the audience to begin to settle down before speaking. "What a _treat_! Bravo!"

Biting her maroon colored bottom lip at the same time that a small smile returned to her pale, freckled face, Mirta watched her best friend take a final bow before gracefully strolling off the stage, allowing the MC to continue on with the pageant and announce the next contestant entry.

"And _now_, our _final_ contestant tonight: Miss Solaria! Performing the dance of the _great_ Western _Moon_ of Solaria!"

Forcing herself to focus upon and enjoy the rest of the show, Mirta raised an eyebrow in intrigue as the name of the realm the curvaceous, hazel eyed blonde (who'd just then walked onto the stage) dressed within a cowboy outfit was apparently from.

_Hey . . . Solaria . . . Wasn't that the realm Icy, Darcy, and Stormy were talking about at lunch before I'd __stupidly__ bothered to conduct '__peace__ talks' with them several days ago? _she silently recalled, watching the Solarian fairy confidently incline her head towards the audience with her left finger upon her khaki colored cowboy hat and a smile gracing her cheeks. _I wonder if she knows the fairy who was apparently robbed of her ring or whatever it was by the witches . . ._

As the blonde fairy from Solaria took off her hat for a brief moment before replacing it and beginning to perform her dance routine, Mirta's attention turned to the Senior Witches in question, who appeared visibly irritated by the girl's presence.

_I guess they hate the people from that realm, __period__, in __addition__ to the one fairy they'd tried to victimize_, the redhead continued within her thoughts with a small frown forming upon her face. _Or maybe it's just because of the fact that they weren't able to get __away__ with their evil act that's causing them to hate on anyone from Solaria. __Either__ way, that's too __harsh!_

As the performance progressed, the audience had grown increasingly impressed and favoring of the sunlit haired bombshell expertly dancing upon the stage, just as they had been for Lucy.

Icy, Darcy, and Stormy simultaneously gasped heatedly in affect at this profound realization.

"They _love_ her! I am _not_ gonna let her '_two-step' _her way to the_ crown!" _cried Icy in anger, vowing to obviously destroy the unsuspecting fairy's dance routine, as well as the possible chance of winning.

"Uh oh . . . I don't like the sound of that," whispered Mirta in suspicion as she couldn't help but to overhear the alice blue haired witch speak yet again. "Should I try to divert any spells or tricks they might do again? I mean, I can't just _sit_ here and _not_ help that innocent girl . . . But, if I _do_ try, Icy, Darcy and Stormy might turn their aggression and magic onto _me_ instead yet again . . ."

Biting down onto her lip once again, this time a bit harder, Mirta exhaled sadly to herself as she'd steadily chosen to continue to sit within her seat and merely watch as the Trix Sorceresses proceeded to swiftly attempt to ruin the golden tressed Solarian beauty in various, cruel (although admittedly creative, as well) ways. She never felt as greatly ashamed of herself as she had at that very moment. Instead of finally standing up to the Senior Witches on behalf of that poor young woman, and in the process standing up for herself, Mirta had chosen to continue to remain within obscurity and let them win once again.

_I can't watch anymore_, she thought miserably, covering her eyes with both of her skinny hands as the three older enchantresses in front of her continued to use their magic in a vile manner.

Expecting to hear the audience sharply inhale in disappointment -- or worse, _horror_, the young Cloudtower freshman was deeply surprised to instead hear nothing but continued praise and gasps of awe.

"What --?" she murmured softly to herself, daring to take a peek through her fingers. Not only was the stage a wreck, with various cracks within the floor and debris scattered upon it, but the blonde fairy from Solaria was still going strong within her performance with the same confident smile consistently spread across her face.

And, on top of that, as the icing upon the proverbial cake, Mirta turned her attention onto the Trix and was extremely pleased to see that all three were profoundly mortified that none of their hexes and incantations had succeeded to halt the woman's dance progression.

_Thank __goodness_ thought Mirta with a happy sigh, resting a hand upon her chest in relief. _At least __she'd__ managed to escape those witches' tricks . . ._

"What a _great _dance!" the MC complimented after the Solarian teenager had finished her dance, took a generous bow and he'd joined her onto the chaotic stage floor thereafter. "And what a neat . . . _twist!_ I must say that you certainly possess great balance and skill! We'll just get this all cleaned up before moving onto the question and answer portion of our pageant!"

Mirta couldn't help but to giggle gently as she heard this.

_If you only knew the half of it_, she mused, watching in delectation as the mystical being on stage appeared to be thinking the very same thing as she merely grinned with a sheepish shrug before making her way off of the stage.

**.§§§.**

"And that concludes our talent contest!" revealed the MC with gusto about a half an hour later, causing the Trix Sisters and even Mirta, admittedly, to exhale in relief. Although the Miss Magix pageant hadn't been as bad as she'd initially thought, it still was not entirely her cup of tea, so to speak. And since she had only come to see Lucy, having to endure the rest of the pageant's procedure and process was greatly unnecessary to her.

"We can_ all _agree that_ this _year's pageant has been . . . _heh_ . . . quite _special! _How about a _big_ round of applause for our contestants!_" _the MC continued, grinning sheepishly as he and the rest of the audience gazed upon the sea ofinjured contestants standing within two separate rows upon the now magically restored stage.

Mirta folded her arms across her chest and frowned deeply at the unfortunate display in sympathy.

_Yeah__ it was "special." Just about every single one of these girls had all been badly injured because of the Senior Witches. I'd be willing to bet all of my magic that those three are probably the main reason that Cloudtower -- no, witches, in __general__, get such a horrible rap_, she reflected silently, her scowl deepening. _One of these days they are going to get what's coming to them _. . .

"And now, _finally_, the moment we've been waiting for!" continued the MC, lifting a sky blue colored sealed envelope with the words "Miss Magix" scribbled upon it in soft pink lettering to his chest. Tearing it open, he pulled out the contents that would reveal the winner.

". . . And_ this _year's 'Miss Magix'_ is _. . . Miss _Popularis!"_

Mirta immediately jumped from her seat as her body became renewed with vigor upon hearing this, cheering and applauding like mad with the rest of the audience. She couldn't believe it. Lucy had actually achieved her goal -- her dream, to become the very first witch to win the Miss Magix pageant.

_And even with the fierce competition brought on by the fairy from Solaria . . . who doesn't really look too happy at the moment_, the redhead noted silently with mixed happiness for her best friend, as well as rapport towards the distinct blonde (who'd then appeared to be extremely shocked and angry). _But I truly think that the better, more deserving person had won. Who knows when Lucy will ever get another opportunity like this? That girl is probably used to being the center of attention and winning events like this all of the time, anyhow._

An abundantly happy Lucy made her way to the center of the stage to accept the cyan colored crown and white and blue colored sash that had been simultaneously brought out to place upon her head and body, with green and blue confetti falling all around her from overhead.

Too engrossed within her happiness and pride for her best friend while watching her enjoy the limelight, Mirta was regrettably too late to notice Icy's cruel, light blue colored eyes curiously then begin to glow a soft violet hue . . .

In alarm, Mirta gasped sharply, eyes growing large in horror as she helplessly watched Lucy outlandishly cringe and tense up in seemingly immense pain, before hunching during the same course that Icy's spell had obviously lifted as her true appearance was then revealed to the entire audience.

"Oh, no . . . Lucy . . ." breathed Mirta lightly in sorrow, her heart breaking as she witnessed Lucy's formerly happy and content visage contort itself into one full of despair and embarrassment.

At the same time, the auditorium regrettably filtered with jeers and hissing for the outed witch to promptly leave the stage.

"_Boo!_ Get her off the stage!! She _cheated!!_" Mirta was appalled to hear the gentle, elderly couple from behind her suddenly cry out, causing her heart to ache at such harshness.

"_No!_ S-she _didn't!_ She just --!" she began in vain, as she turned around to face them in attempts to explain on her friend's behalf, before the MC's voice, once calm, cheerful and welcoming (and, in irony, especially towards Lucy), had easily swallowed up her words as his own were laced with nothing but disdain and execration.

"Miss Popularis is _disqualified!_"

"_No!_" cried Mirta as she whirled around in her spot and faced the stage once more, looking up at the MC with pleading eyes, even though she was well aware that he could not see her (and, even _if_ he could, would not care within the slightest).

This wasn't fair. The only thing that Lucy had done that might have been "wrong" was use a spell (with the "devil's" assistance) to alter her appearance. But, the _rest_ of it (regardless of whether or not the incantation had assisted in her ballet performance) had been all Lucy.

Lucy, who had been leading with her heart and merely doing what made her happy, instead of staying within the background and following the crowd.

How could that have gone so horribly wrong?

Mirta helplessly watched her dearest friend look into the audience for any sort of mercy -- specifically, from the Senior Witches. However, the only thing that _they_ had offered onto the swiftly pilloried Cloudtower enchantress was their back, as the trio merely rose from their seat and walked out of the auditorium without a word.

The normally timid rosy haired gentlewoman felt profoundly strong, violent anger surging throughout her being at this.

_I __knew__ it! I knew that they would do something completely __horrible__ to Lucy! And even __after__ they had, she __still__ turns to them for validation!_ thought Mirta in immense frustration. Fervid tears beginning to form within her turquoise tinted eyes, she turned her head to witness the Trix Sisters retreat from the arena a moment, before returning her attention back onto Lucy, for whom time was standing still as the barrage of verbal abuse continued.

Mirta's frown instantly evaporated the instant that her eyes had locked with Lucy's, her _own_ tears forming. It was at that moment that the teal haired woman had seemed to finally notice that Mirta was there . . . and that realization alone seemed to have done nothing at all to comfort her.

In fact, the very minute that the two women's eyes had met it seemed to be all that Lucy could take. For, tears beginning to freely flow down onto her scrunched up visage before she'd promptly concealed it with both of her hands, she blindly ran off of the stage in overwhelming shame.

"_Lucy!!_" Mirta called out abortively to her friend, her voice sounding nothing more than a whisper amidst the gibing audience. "_Ugh!_ I can't just stay here! I _have_ to go find her before she does something _drastic!_"

Without another word nor thought, Mirta swiftly turned on her heel and rushed down the aisle towards the exits in pursuit of her friend . . . and, as a result and unbeknownst to her, succeeding in captivating the attention of one individual in particular . . .

**.§§§.**

"_God!_ Why'd this place have to be so _big??_" exclaimed Mirta in frustration, after wandering around through every corridor and hallway for what felt like ages, but in reality was a mere several minutes. Still, regardless of the amount of time that'd actually been spent, the clock was steadily ticking away, and she still had been unable to locate her friend.

Mirta could only hope and pray that _wherever_ Lucy was, it wasn't where the Trix Sisters had adjourned to, after having left the auditorium as well.

"Knowing them as I regrettably sort of do, they'll most likely add insult to the injury they'd caused if she's with them," reflected Mirta aloud, wrapping around yet another corner and continuing on. "Or, _worse_. They might try to turn it around and make it seem like it was all _Lucy's_ fault for bothering to enter the pageant at all -- or that they only wanted to _help_ her . . . _Ugh!_ I've got to find her!"

Looking about her surroundings, Mirta could at last recognize where she was to be the hall that led straight to the main exits. It wasn't the dressing room area she'd been aiming to locate (so that she could in turn find her distraught friend), but it was better than nothing.

_Besides, if she __is__ inside her dressing room, she'll have to come outside eventually,_ she rationalized within her mind as she jogged over to the main doors after they'd come into view. _And when she does, I can finally talk to her and let her know that I __do__ care for her . . ._

Pushing open the door and walking back into the crisp, fresh night air, Mirta expected the area to be empty, as she assumed that the pageant's finale was still progressing. However, what she _hadn't_ expected was to see Icy, Darcy, and Stormy all seated upon the concrete steps of the main entrance.

The trio were laughing gaily in unison, seemingly engrossed within an undeniably cruel conversation (and one most likely about what had just transpired for Lucy).

"And, I mean, could you _believe_ that that _loser_ freshman actually believed that everyone _loved_ her? Her face was absolutely _priceless_ after you'd lifted the spell off of her, Icy! Pure genius to do it right at that moment!" Mirta listened to Stormy heartlessly deliver in the midst of her shared laughter with her comrades, the triad apparently unaware that their conversation was no longer private.

"Yeah! And it was genius of _you_, Stormy, to suggest that we stick around a while longer to wait for her to come out, so that we can revel within her misery some more rather than waiting until tomorrow," added Darcy, complimenting her younger friend for her heinous tact.

Stretching, Icy suddenly rose from her spot and grinned as she continued to stare straight ahead.

"_Absolutely_. And, the _best_ part of it all is that she'll never even _think_ to suspect the three of _us_ as the ones who'd ratted her out, so to speak," she said with a patented, vile smirk upon her face, while resting a hand upon her slender hip. "She'll probably think that some fairy, like 'Lil' Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes Stella -- who was _clearly_ upset not to have won -- just cast a spell to embarrass her somehow, and in the process interfere with the magic already at work upon her. But how beautiful is it that not only was she humiliated _anyway_, but will probably come running to us for some sort of comfort! _Hardly!_"

"_Exactly!_ Not if _I_ have anything to say about it, anyway!" Mirta suddenly heard herself say furiously, surprising herself (as well as the Trix threesome) in the process, and feeling regret for having said a word. She _wanted_ to protect Lucy. That was true. But she _also_ was keenly (as well as regrettably) aware that she was no where near a valid match for the women before her, and would undoubtedly be belittled in addition to "punished" for her interference.

_Well, it's too late to back out of it now. I suppose I'll just have to brace myself for the worst_, she thought, swallowing hard as she forced herself to take on a brave resolve as all three ladies whirled around and instantaneously glared daggers at the scrawny crimson tressed girl.

"Well, well, _well!_ If it isn't our _other_ favorite CT freshman -- _not!_" quipped Icy as Darcy and Stormy both stood up, grinning maliciously.

"If you were _smart_, you would've stayed _inside_ to continue cheering stupidly for your _equally_ stupid friend, instead of coming out _here_ to -- what? _Confront_ us? _Please!_" berated Stormy, waving a hand at a taken aback Mirta in dismissal.

"What? You didn't _honestly_ think that we wouldn't have noticed? You _were_ directly behind us, after all," said Darcy with a lazy air, smirking harshly at the cardinal haired girl. "We just didn't feel like wasting our time on you yet _again_. But now that you're here, we might as _well_ mess around with you to help pass the time until 'Lucy the Incompetent' comes out."

_All your worries, leave them somewhere else_

"She is _not _incompetent!" Mirta blurted out heatedly, cheeks instantly growing hot with mixed embarrassment and anger, however still determined to stand her ground. "You'd twisted all of her hopes and dreams into some horrible _nightmare!_ How do you three _live _with yourselves?"

_Find a dream you can follow,_

"Just fine, but thanks for the concern!" said Icy, sharing yet another laugh with her fellow witches at the novice sorceress's expense. "In _fact_, I think that the only concern you _should_ have is the major pain the three of us are about to inflict upon you!"

Before she could properly react, Mirta instantly felt her tiny body become immobile and rigid, at the same time that the same eerie purple aura that was beginning to engulf the poor redhead's body was now _also_ emitting from the right hand that Darcy had outstretched directly in front of her.

"Aww! You look a bit _tense! _Why not lie _down_ a while?" chided Darcy as she continued to utilize her wretched magic upon the younger girl, causing her to hover within the air for a few seconds, before violently swinging her hand to her immediate left, and as a result catapulting Mirta helplessly within that direction and away from the stadium.

"_Ahh!!_" she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut as she did her best to brace herself for the immense affliction she was then about to experience.

However, nothing had happened. No excruciating pain had swept over her body.

"Argh! _What_ the --!" Mirta could hear Icy, Darcy, and Stormy simultaneously exclaim in inappreciative shock, watching in rage as a sudden burst of green had appeared within the atmosphere. At the same time, enormous vines began to spring forth from sparkling pollen, before the plant had securely wrapped itself around Mirta's body and thus preventing her from connecting with the ground.

"Great _catch_, Flora! Your 'Glitter Dust' attack saved your friend in the nick of time! Looks like you were _right_ to worry for her!"

"Thanks, Bloom! I'm just glad that we're now here to help! Are you all right, sweetie?"

Mirta, whose eyes had been closed throughout the entire commotion, felt herself being gently touched upon her back as she simultaneously exhaled violently, realizing that she'd stopped breathing. Slowly, she turned her head and felt her eyes begin to water with overwhelming, intermingled emotion as she was surprised to gaze upon the kind visage of the emerald eyed, tawny skinned brunette fairy she'd encountered earlier that evening.

_I . . . can't believe it. She doesn't even know me, and yet she'd still come after me . . ._ she marveled silently, blinking furiously to keep the tears that were brimming within her eyes at bay. _I've never encountered such heart in my life . . ._

_Reach for something, when there's nothing left_

"I . . . y-yeah . . . Thank you, Flora," replied Mirta breathlessly, seizing the beauty's hands, who'd helped her onto her feet as the mystically conjured vines gently released her from their grasp before dissipating.

_And the world's feeling hollow._

"We should've _known_ that the rest of you 'Pixie Brats' would be at such a 'Reject Convention,' since your precious _Stella _had been so busy prancing around the stage like some sort of headless _chicken!_" remarked Icy with hostility, Darcy and Stormy chiming in with their usual backdrop of cruel laughter as they took their familiar places at either side of her.

Mirta frowned deeply simultaneously with her savior, in addition to Flora's apparent friend (another redhead like Mirta, herself) known as Bloom who'd joined her. She watched the newcomer who slightly resembled her (with the exception that the other girl's hair was far longer, she didn't possess freckles or any other sort of blemish upon her fair skin, and the shade of her locks were more of burnt orange than true red) walk forward and place herself in front of Mirta and the brunette with a profoundly bold confidence.

"That's pretty hypocritical of you, Icy, considering the fact that _you _three _primadonnas _are here as _well!_ Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that in turn make _you_ some sort of reject, too?" retaliated Bloom with a broad smile of her own, raising a delicate eyebrow in inquisition at the now furiously blushing duo-plus-one of witches erected before her.

_Wow . . . __Look__ at her. I could __never__ be that firm and witty_, thought Mirta, gazing in awe upon the natural born leader of a woman. _I wouldn't even know where to __begin_.

Growling in fuming ire, Stormy's lithe body swiftly slingshot itself into the air as she tapped into her magic to levitate. Balling up both of her fists, she glowered down at the opposing trinity of freshmen below her.

"Grr! I am _so_ sick of you stupid Alfea fairies!! _And_ you, you refuse, _annoying _little wicca wannabe who _so_ doesn't _belong_ at Cloudtower! You '_Firsties_' are_ definitely_ gonna pay! _Electric Booty-Kick!_" she cried, thrusting her right arm forward towards the unsuspecting women. Violent volts of white hot electricity outlined in violet magically emitted forth from her hand and sharply careened down to the ground at its intended marks.

"_Ahh!_" cried the two Alfea fairies and the Cloudtower first-year simultaneously, the three just narrowly missing the furious attack as they'd each dived out of its direct path of harm.

Gruffly landing onto her stomach, Mirta regrettably heard the two benignant women gasp in surprise from behind her, which she instantly understood to be due to Stormy's unfortunate unveiling of Mirta being a resident of Cloudtower, a school for witches.

"She's a _witch?_ Flora, why didn't you say anything? I thought that witches and fairies don't get along with one another?" questioned Bloom, profuse confusion resonating within her voice.

_Great. Now I'm really in for it from __both__ sides_, believed Mirta in silence as well as regret, far too petrified (in addition to mortification) to turn to face her potential, additional foes and to witness and listen to Flora's response.

Thankfully enough (and ironically so), Icy abruptly interrupted with yet another savage guffaw as she said,

"Oh, _please!_ I don't know about you ladies, but I for one feel rather insulted that the title of 'witch' could possibly be attached to this pathetic excuse for a human, let _alone_ a CT resident! Let me make it easier on you for having to deal with your useless existence by burying you _ahead_ of schedule! _Ice Coffin!_"

"_No!_" cried Flora, suddenly startling both Mirta and Bloom in the process as she rushed forth from her spot beside Bloom and pushed the young witch roughly and hastily out of the way as the atmosphere grew curiously frigid and ice began to form around eventually encase the unfortunate brunette.

"_Flora!!_" exclaimed Bloom, her cyan colored eyes widening in shock as she watched the gut-wrenching display of her obvious friend, now unconscious with only her head visible and free from the supremely cold ice. Angry tears now filtering into her livid orbs, she shifted her gaze away from the newly helpless female and squarely onto Mirta, who'd remained upon the ground with shocked tears of her own within her eyes.

"I-I . . . I don't --" she stammered, shivering in fear, as well as due to such close proximity to the coffin of ice after which the attack was named. She couldn't believe what was happening. One minute, she had been merely searching for her best friend, and then the next it'd escalated into such a chaotic and unexpected brawl between fairies and witches.

_It's all my fault . . ._ she thought, closing her eyes as she waited to feel a world of physical retribution from the obviously heated Bloom.

_Can you hear it calling?  
_

"_Errr!!_ You three are going to _pay_ for this!! _Bloom-Magic-Winx!!_" cried the lone fairy with strength and choler riddled within her voice, causing Mirta to re-open her eyes to witness the display, while the Trix Sisters merely looked on in incredulous boredom across the way.

_Can you feel it in your soul?_

Mirta let out a soft gasp as she marveled at the mystical sight beginning to transpire before her. Bloom, her sylphlike, now unclothed body mysteriously glowing a warm orange, raised both arms straight above her head and clapped her hands together a moment before parting them to reveal a small ball of fire hovering between them.

_Can you trust this longing?_

Crisscrossing her hands together, with the index and middle fingers the only ones left extended, the spherical flame expanded and seemed to set the carrot orange haired female's body aflame as it then began to careen downward.

In reality, however, wherever the combustion had caressed Bloom's body, new attire materialized in its stead. Detached, electric blue colored sleeves appeared upon each of her arms and, after uncrossing and spreading them on either side of herself, a sparkling, cyan tinted top emanated onto her chest through the flames, within the same moment that a short skirt of the same color clothed her bottom half.

Leaning forward a bit, delicate, pale green tinted iridescent wings unfurled from behind Bloom, before a tiny, yet beautiful golden tiara appeared within her rich pumpkin hued tresses.

_And take control,_

At last opening her eyes, Bloom, utilizing her newfound wings, swiftly flew up into the air several feet before landing within the same spot, magically outlined a golden heart and struck a pose (so to speak) for her foes with a rather determined look shining forth upon her face.

_Fly_

"Wow . . . she transformed into her . . . fairy form," murmured Mirta in awe, unsure of what to call the breathtaking metamorphosis.

"Now to defrost Flora!" said Bloom, turning her back, a bit foolishly, to the Senior Witches as she prepared to presumably use a magical spell or two to free her still captive and unconscious comrade.

"I think we've given Bloom and her little lackey a bit of false hope and confidence to winning this fight long enough, Icy," said Darcy with a growing smirk as all three witches had then joined one another within the air. "What do you say to taking them out, once and for all?"

"Bloom! Look _out!_" cried Mirta too late, only able to watch a newfound lightning based attack, launched by Stormy after Darcy had finished speaking, to suddenly barrel itself into the cyan colored fairy square in the back. It sent her careening several feet ahead of her, and away from Flora, causing her to land roughly upon her chest with a deafening crash.

Before she had had time to get up and try to seek possible shelter, Mirta felt her body being abruptly bombarded by yet another one of Darcy's aggressive onslaught, hitting her straight in the face and causing her to violently topple over.

Both women now lay, doubled over in pain, while their three combatants continued to remain aloft above them, cackling in presumed victory.

"Y'know, I _gotta _say! I actually feel _sorry_ for your dumb little fairy school and its supposed prestige, if _you're_ the best that they have to offer, Bloom!" said Icy in between chortles, looking over the grimacing orange haired fairy with esteemed pride due to the display of visible damage and bruising her violet tressed comrade had bestowed onto her.

"Yeah! Pretty _sad!_ And a definite bummer for _us_, seeing as we haven't even broken a _sweat!_" added Stormy condescendingly with narrowed eyes. "Ah, well! _Do_ send our regards to 'Down Below' after we've finished _annihilating_ you!"

Mirta, seemingly disregarded for the time being, seized the distracting opportunity to will herself to concentrate and focus her fleeting strength to conjure up one of her best and fine tuned illusion spells, hoping against hope that it would serve to buy Bloom enough time to either collect herself in order to fight back or to flee and thus save herself.

_Open up the part of you that wants to hide away_

_But even though I've only known this girl for no more than fifteen minutes, something tells me that the idea of abandoning her friend isn't even an option for her at all right now,_ she mused, inhaling deeply as she slowly managed to roll onto her back. _Which is why I really hope that my spell can help her in some way . . . that I can be __useful_

_You can shine,_

Resisting the urge to dive back into another dispiriting indulge of self pity, Mirta exhaled sharply and, body temperature increasing in heat, began to cast her enchantment.

_Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,_

_And start to try, cause it's your time,_

"_Illusion Delusion!_" she exclaimed, thrusting both arms straight into the air at the same time that vibrant sparkles, originally blue in color before immediately shifting to a soft orange hue, emitted from both of her open palm.

_Time to fly._

Whether or not they had been suddenly neglecting her presence, or merely did not expect her to no longer possess enough strength (and not to mention, _courage_) to fight back, after Darcy's rather powerful attack, was unclear. Regardless, all three Trix sorceresses suddenly found themselves surprisingly losing all concentration within their conjurations, as a monstrous roar abruptly sounded from behind them.

Mirta softly smiled to herself in a rather vindicated, congratulatory manner as she slowly rose to her feet and watched Icy, Darcy, and Stormy fall to the ground in completely broken focus by the sudden appearance of a gargantuan, olive colored, eight red saturated eyed monster that snarled with a vengeance down at them.

"_That_ ought to keep them busy for a bit," said Mirta to herself as she moved to the newly wounded Bloom, who was at last managing to delicately rise to her feet as well.

"Bloom, are you all right?" asked the redhead, hesitating before reaching out a hand to securely lift the tangerine haired fairy.

Increasingly coughing a bit before responding, Bloom took a few deep inhales as she looked from Mirta, with slightly weary eyes, to the rather humiliating display of the Senior Witches berating one another over how such a "lowly freshman" could have managed to disconcert them with the ever present and looming illusion of a beast before the trio.

". . . Y-yeah . . . I am . . . Just g-got the wind knocked out of me more than anything else . . . Thank you . . ." she at last replied, still fixating her stare upon the Trix three with earned caution, for what she was aware would undoubtedly be round number two once they'd gathered their _own_ wits about them. "I don't understand why you'd want to help me, when I'm a _fairy_ and _you're_ a witch like _they_ are, but I'm actually really glad that you have. But, you've got to do me _one_ more favor, and get out of here."

_And when you're down and feel alone,  
Just want to run away,_

Mirta immediately shook her crimson head at the same request she herself had been thinking of asking her gamboge-locked counterpart.

"No, _way! _This is as much _my _fight as it is yours! _More_, if anything! I'm staying to help!" she rebutted fiercely, straightening her posture, Bloom following suit as her face at last relaxed upon hearing this.

_Trust yourself and don't give up,  
_

Smiling gently at her new comrade-apparent, she nodded gently.

". . . All right. Fine. But please try to stay out of harm's way as best that you can," she consented, exhaling for good measure as she then drew her attention onto the unfortunately still seized Flora. "I don't know how long Flora will be able to last in that ice without the rest of my friends here to help me release her . . . but for _her_ sake, I'm going to try anyway!"

With a determined, gruff respire, Bloom gave her brunette friend one last look before suddenly flapping her wings vigorously and ascending into the air, body glowing a warm orange like before.

"I hope this _works!_ Hey, Icy! _Stormy!_ 'Regard' _this!_" she cried, forming two sets of fireballs in each of her palms before sending them in two different directions. The first, drifting down to the ground below and towards Mirta, bypassed her as it glided gently and settled at the base of Flora's ice encased feet, successfully managing to begin melting it in the process.

Meanwhile, the second ball of flame, much bigger than its companion, continued on straight ahead towards the triad of witches who'd at the same time just finished disposing of the nuisance of an illusion summoned by Mirta.

"_What_ the --" began Stormy, as she and her fellow enchantresses whirled around a bit too late to react properly, however _were_ in time to get lambasted to the ground as a result of being pegged within the chest with the full brunt of the fiery blast.

". . . Uhh," moaned Bloom softly as a wave of fatigue returned to wash over her, swiftly eradicating the gradually returning strength she'd been accumulating. Her wings no longer able to sustain her flight, she gingerly returned to the ground at the same moment that the Trix had tumbled, themselves.

The odds within the ongoing battle at least now seemed to be a bit more evened for both Bloom _and_ Mirta -- that is, for the time being.

"Even _if _that attack had done little to damage them some, it's at _least_ seemed to daze them for a bit longer, while I try to catch my second wind," said Bloom, breathing heavily and appearing flushed as well as strained.

"And you made the right choice to split your attack in half, because _look!_ The ice around Flora is melting and giving way!" said Mirta in congratulations, pointing to the tawny skinned female before moving to Bloom's side.

"G . . . _Good!_ Look after after her for me . . ." instructed Bloom, willing herself to take a few steps towards the now fuming deuce-ace before her, who were helping each other up. "I'm going in for one final attack."

"_What?_ B-But, Bloom! You're --"

"-- _Done!_" screeched Icy suddenly, wasting no time in counterattacking, with both Darcy and Stormy joining suit with their own onrush.

Seeing the onslaught fast approaching, Mirta, without thinking of hesitation thrust herself within its direct path and shielded the greatly debilitated Bloom and the relatively thawed and slowly arousing Flora in the process.

It was in that exact moment that time seemed to slow down to a complete stop for the red haired freshman witch of Cloudtower. All former, familiar thoughts and feelings of guilt, suffering, betrayal, confusion and sadness instantly seemed to relinquish its steady hold upon her and evaporate away as most positive emotions gradually began to filter in.

_I can't just stand idly by anymore and watch Bloom sacrifice herself in return for my safety. If __she__ can be brave time and time again -- even __with__ the odds stacked against her -- I just __know__ that __I__ can be, too. I __know__ that I can, _thought Mirta with growing, foreign confidence, her insides curiously beginning to seer with an unfamiliar yet comforting sensation. _Because I am __not__ a loser . . . and I am __not__ as weak and insignificant as Icy and everyone else throughout my entire life always seemed to believe -- __including__ Lucy at times . . ._

_You know you better than anyone else_

_And somehow, some way, I'm going to prove that to them! _she reflected silently as a final afterthought, just as her core body temperature had swiftly reached an unbearable breaking point.

_Any moment, everything can change,_

Suddenly, Mirta let out a sharp, violent gasp and squeezed her eyes shut as her body roughly arched itself and every magical spell simultaneously launched by Icy, Darcy and Stormy instantly dissipated upon impact. She felt as though her entire being was inexplicably erupting into white hot flames, while surprised exhales surrounded her front and behind as the remaining five ladies took in the startling and unexpected sight.

"W . . . What's _happening_ to her?" asked Bloom to no one in particular in intermingled awe and concern, after moving over to cradle Flora's newly freed but moist, weakened body.

"She's . . . _transforming_ . . . but . . . _how?_" the brunette nonetheless responded, voice barely above a whisper as both she and Bloom witnessed the birth of a new destiny.

Body illuminated within a cloak of a dark pink aura, Mirta's body began to gently levitate from off of the ground and her clothes instantly melted away, much in the way that Bloom's had during her _own_ transformation.

_Feel the wind on your shoulder,_

Mirta felt her limbs take on a mind of their own as she turned and inclined her head to her left, while her left _hand_ delicately draped itself over her bare chest with her fingers and palm resting upon her right shoulder. Meanwhile, her right arm caressed her hip on the same side as well as pelvic area, while her actual hand itself concealed her nether region.

The vermilion locked young woman felt a soft smile caress her pale, freckled cheeks as an overwhelming sensation of _nothing_ but affirmative feeling cascaded over her, at the same time that her body took over once more and suddenly moved into a new position.

Blindly extending her left arm straight out to her side, it suddenly grew warmer and tingly as the other women around Mirta witnessed a mysterious looking denim blue colored energy expertly zigzagged its way down the appendage and left a sparkling, elbow length glove of the same tint within its wake. Her other arm followed suit thereafter, as it removed itself from her lower domain and straight out to the other side of her person. In an instant, the very same trickling effect that had occurred to its left counterpart happened this limb as well, and it too was now covered with an equally shimmering blue glove.

With both extremities now clothed, Mirta unconsciously lifted them up, straight over her head and then crisscrossed her wrists with the back of her palms resting against the other. She let out a tiny exhale as her lips began to part and she'd turned her head straight forward, her entire organic structure now practically sizzling with kinetic energy in the same way that her arms had moments before.

And then, suddenly, in a moment did the rest of the young witch's brand new attire appear before her spectators' very eyes.

_For a minute, all the world can wait,_

A beautiful, dark pink short tank top, with straps of the same denim blue as Mirta's gloves magically appeared onto her in a trickling, waterfall-like effect. And, in the same manner, a micro-mini skirt, matching the same pink tint now clothed and comfortably hugged itself around her bottom.

Legs, formerly crisscrossed the entire duration, at last unfolded themselves in time for the pair of blue knee high boots (with the heels pink in contrast) to appear upon each of them in a flash of pure light.

As a final touch to the young gentlewoman's transformation, a beautiful, black threaded necklace, with a thistle colored diamond adornment hanging from it (as it did upon her skirt) appeared around her neck within a wavy-like manner.

_Let go of yesterday,_

At the same time, Mirta arched her back to the sudden, undeniable feel of her _own_ pair of brilliant, iridescent and lavender colored wings unfurling themselves in order to properly expose themselves, in all of their elegant splendor, to the world for the very first time.

_Fly_

At last opening her eyes, the breathtaking redhead smiled softly as she utilized her wings as her premiere experience, and expertly (and surprisingly so, considering) executed a broad loop within the air before settling down in between Bloom and Flora.

_Open up the part of you that wants to hide away_

". . . M . . . _Mirta_ . . . You're a --"

"-- Idiotic _fairy??_ Oh, this is _rich!_" Icy discontinued Bloom with perfect precision, causing her in addition to Flora to frown in great vilification.

The newly altered _Mirta_, however, could only blink repeatedly at this, while simultaneously gasping in utmost affect and discombobulation by the choice of words having been instituted by the woman with the alice blue colored tresses.

_You can shine_

_Fairy?_ Was that _really_ what she was? If that were so, how was it possible, when, as far as she was aware of, every female within Mirta's family had all been witches including she herself? That was how it had always been for as long as she could recall.

_Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,_

And yet, suddenly there she now was, standing before both foe and potential friend alike, adorned within vestments that were very much "fairy-like."

While Mirta did not understand any of it, it nonetheless admittedly felt a bit _right_ to her . . .

"I always _knew_ something was _way_ off about you! And now here's the proof as to _why_: She's a _freak!_" chided Stormy, flexing the fingers of one hand while using the index finger of her other to point accusingly at her.

"_Seriously!_ You were a reject as a poor excuse for a _witch_, and you'll be an even _bigger_ reject now that you're a _fairy!_ But, at least _now _I won't feel so bad to take you out, since you're no longer one of us. _Ha!_ Just _kidding!_ As though you ever _were_ or _hoped_ to be!" ridiculed Darcy, stretching her arms out before her as she geared herself up to attack with her fellow diabolical mates.

"_Final_ blow, ladies! _Yahh!_" instructed Icy, as the three women wasted not another breath, immediately levitating and swiftly beginning to decrease the distance between the other trio and themselves as they charged steadily forward.

"Mirta! Please protect Flora! I don't know what powers you now possess, but right now I'm still the only one cognitively capable of defending ourselves right now! _Ahh!_" cried Bloom as she once again took flight and dove right back into the engagement, bravely sallying forth after the Trix Sisters head on with profound and resilient courage despite her still clearly weakened state.

"I . . . need to help her . . . I have to help Bloom . . ." said Flora with distinct frailty of her own, as she slowly managed to stand through Mirta's help. Her body, still cool and damp, was in deep contrast to the feverish determination shining forth within her brilliant green eyes.

A moving ridge of awareness abruptly flooded over Mirta and touched her heart as she gazed into them, causing her to gasp softly as a result.

". . . Y . . . you _can't_ help her if you're still faint, Flora . . . but maybe _I_ can help _you_ . . ." she murmured the first half softly, before ending her sentence with such a bellicose authority that she'd never before harbored.

_And start to try, _

With an eerie, yet assuring instinct, Mirta then raised both palms to Flora's damp chest within a fluid motion and directly over her heart, which caused the other girl to blush and exhale in affect in the process. Body glowing softly once again, the cardinal haired fairy then proceeded to close her turquoise colored eyes as words slowly began to form within her mind, before at last uttering them aloud.

"_Ardent Cleanse_ . . ." she said softly, her previously aura-surrounded body now growing a deeper shade of pink illumination at the same time that _Flora's_ had also begun to glow the same hue. The gentle brunette let out a relaxed sigh as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, suddenly feeling blessed and renewed with distinct vigor, as thousands of pink and blue colored sparkles shimmered around her increasingly strengthened body.

Within seconds both the auras as well as lights were gone, and Flora and Mirta reopened their eyes. Mirta, whose cheeks had grown flushed with dynamic energy, had grown even _more_ calorific as she watched the older girl smile in profuse appreciation at her.

". . . _Thank_ you, Mirta! You . . . you _healed_ me! I feel _so_ much better!" she expressed in extreme gratitude, her voice and face looking far more healthy than mere moments before (in addition to her clothes, that were once moist, were now magically dry).

Mirta could only blush and nod awkwardly at this in response, lowering her hands away from Flora before moving to her side.

_I don't even know or understand how I __did__ it . . . But the feeling and words had just __come__ to me, regardless . . . _she thought, turning her head to watch Flora's body suddenly begin to glow once more, this time carnation in color, as the unfair fight between three against one above their heads simultaneously drudged on (although it thankfully seemed that Bloom was holding her own, signifying the great strength she wielded inside of her against all odds).

"I'm _coming_, Bloom! _Flora-Magic-Winx!_" she exclaimed boldly, obviously commencing within her own fairy transformation as her clothes promptly vanished within a flash of light. Within another flash of light, a delicate looking, orchid colored and appropriately shaped choker suddenly graced her neck, while detached sleeves of the very same tint appeared and greatly housed themselves around her bare arms.

Shimmery greenish-yellow magic swirled around Flora's body before her new outfit (a sparkling, orchid and fuchsia colored bare shouldered bodice, that modestly concealed the flattering mini skirt of the same color, in addition to ankle-high boots that also mimicked the fuchsia/orchid hue) mystically appeared. She opened her emerald colored eyes and grinned softly as a pair of minuscule and humble translucent green-yellow wings placed themselves upon her flawless back.

Just as Flora had completed her transformation, Stormy, seemingly the only one of the three Senior Witches to have noticed, suddenly roared,

"Oh, no you're _not!_"

At last prying herself away from the condensed attention upon Bloom, the violet haired Weather Goddess promptly re-acknowledged the caramel tressed fairy.

Seeing that Flora was about to be attacked, Mirta was swift to take action.

"No! _You're_ not, Stormy!" she cried, violently thrusting her right arm forward and a violent burst of green colored energy effortlessly emitted forth from her palm directly at Stormy's nosediving body, catching her off guard and hitting her within the arm and singing it.

"_Ahh!_ You _hit_ me?? _And_ managed to make me _bleed!_ You're _toast_, you little _troll!_" she screeched in fury, looking down at her left arm to examine the bloodied scorch mark that Mirta's attack had made, before counterattacking with one of her own lightning based attacks.

"Now, it's my turn! _Ninja Daisies!!_" said the newly transformed Flora, after Mirta had narrowly managed to dodge Stormy's attack and had fallen to the ground at the brunette's feet. A barrage of daisies, surrounded within a soft green aura, suddenly and steadily flowed forth from Flora's outstretched hand, scowling a bit before watching in satisfaction as the attack bombarded a livid Stormy and obscuring her view.

"_Ugh!_ Darcy! Go help Stormy save some face by getting _rid_ of those two nuisances, while _I_ dispose of Bloom!" bellowed Icy, frowning deeply. "I don't _need _reinforcements to destroy _you_ -- Too bad it won't be as satisfying, though, since you're just a miserable, _pathetic_ mass of weakness now. But, _ah_ well! It'll _still_ be just as _fun!_"

Panting heavily with her vision growing a bit blurred, Bloom returned the glare as she vaguely struggled to remain afloat after all of the ongoing assaults she'd managed to thwart from all three witches up until this point.

"Th . . . that remains to be _seen_, Icy! _Fire Blast!!_" she cried, forcing her fleeting energy to launch yet another fiery blast at the Ice Mistress floating strongly before her.

Meanwhile, down below, a separate battle had commenced between Darcy and Stormy, against Flora and Mirta, with both sides continuously firing off attacks left and right.

"Give it _up!_ We have you outmatched in strength, and you _know_ it!" said Darcy in between assaults, having returned to the ground momentarily while her amethyst haired companion continued to levitate at her side.

"_Yeah!_ We're everything you're _not_ and only _wish_ you could be! But that's something you _obviously_ have to learn the hard way -- like 'Lowbrow Lucy' had! I can't _wait_ to get back to Cloudtower so we can mess with her some more! But, _after_ we've finished _you_ off!" added Stormy with a small, satisfactory growl as she raised an eyebrow in provoking.

"Don't you get _tired _of sounding like a broken record, Stormy? _How_ many times have you said that, and we _always_ kick your tail?" said Flora with a smirking grimace, sending another green-oriented spell attack within the direction of the older woman in question.

Mirta, meanwhile, suddenly found it rather hard to breathe in the midst of her newfound attacks and capabilities, in addition to Stormy's familiar and incessant berating. It was as though her vicious words had been some sort of catalyst for things unknown, as something heavy, invisible in nature, was mercilessly weighing down upon her chest -- her entire _body_, in fact, and a great prickling sensation enveloped her.

It was then, suddenly, that flashbacks of the past several weeks, and right up until that very moment, had begun to flood her mind at the same moment: The unwarranted cafeteria incident . . . The abject altercation with Lucy . . . Tonight's debacle of a pageant . . .

_All_ had been disparaging mishaps one after the other, filled with nothing but heartache and misery -- and _all_ had been ultimately prescribed by the hands of the Trix Sisters, for the sole purpose of their enjoyment . . .

"W . . . _what_ the --" Stormy called out in alarm, as every female present (even including Icy) had then become petrified at the sight of Mirta's enigmatic, ferociously glowing body that'd shone far more intensely than ever before.

Locking eyes with Stormy, Darcy and then Icy, Mirta fleetly rose up into the air and clenched both of her fists, her entire being continuing to exude with illuminating brilliance.

_Fly_

". . . _You_ . . . You three have hurt and _tormented_ me -- tormented _Lucy_ -- for the_ final_ time! You've tried to turn the _only_ friend I've ever _truly_ had _against_ me, by polluting her mind with _heinous_, false hopes of being _one_ of you! And _then_ only just _sabotaged_ that dream -- as _well_ as the dream of being something more than she _already_ is in front of _half_ the entire realm of _Magix!_" she fumed, body tensing up and shaking in uncontrollable rage.

_Forget about the reasons why you can't in life,_

_And start to try, cause it's your time,_

"Well, I'm _finally_ taking a _long_ overdue stand against you witches, and letting you know that Lucy is _supremely _more than enough as she is right _now!_ And so am _I!_ I _finally_ feel less conflicted about who I'm supposed or everybody _wants _me to be and what I should do -- and I'm _not_ going to let your negativity weigh down upon me anymore! _Intrepid Explosion!!_"

_Time to fly._

Upon saying that innate utterance, the bright, excruciating light that had been surrounding Mirta had then reached its pinnacle, as it suddenly burst forth, away from her body the very moment she'd outstretched all of her limbs and squeezed her turquoise eyes shut.

"_Ahh!!_" all three witches exclaimed in shock and symptom, as the bedazzled attack unsparingly engulfed the three whole -- including Bloom. When it'd eventually subsided, however, it'd been _only_ the orange haired fairy to have remained both conscious and unscathed, as she'd appeared to have gratefully settled back down to the ground, for the last time that evening, in renewed fatigue a few feet from the crumpled, visibly wounded heaps of the notorious Senior Witches.

"Mmm . . ." groaned Mirta after having taken in the sight, suddenly feeling greatly nauseous and enervated. Without warning and unable to stop herself, she felt her body grow limp and eyes grow profusely heavy before closing as she plummeted to the tough ground below.

"_Mirta!_ Oh! I-I've got you!" called out Flora as she swiftly flew towards and directly below the other worn out redhead besides Bloom and catching her in time, just as Mirta's fairy costume mysteriously vanished within a bright flash of dark pink light.

"Is she all right?" asked Bloom with an exhausted sigh, as she closed the distance between her two comrades and herself after wearily walking over to them.

"Yeah, I _think_ so . . . Just really tired . . . like you," replied Flora, smiling gently at Bloom before turning her back to the motionless girl she cradled within her strong arms. "You both were _incredible!_"

"Maybe _I_ was, but _Mirta_ was absolutely_ phenomenal!_ She's managed to take out all _three_ witches with that _one_ attack! _Talk_ about _powerful!_" gushed Bloom with a tired smile of her own, before placing a hand over her chest and concentrated. In the next instant _her_ Winx costume had vanished as well, and her regular, civilian clothes were returned.

"Ohh . . ." moaned Mirta softly, stirring awake within Flora's arms.

"Hey . . . You're coming to. Are you all right?" asked Bloom in concern, resting a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

Slowly opening her cerulean eyes, Mirta instantly felt her cheeks flush in abashment at the close proximity she was to both girls.

"O-oh . . . Well . . . yeah, thank you," she managed to muster, her shyness returning. "But . . . what happened?"

"You don't remember how you defeated Icy, Darcy, _and_ Stormy with your _awesome_ Winx, sweetie? You were _really_ wonderful!" complimented Flora, as she gently let her new friend down and raised a hand to her _own_ chest in the way that Bloom had just moments before, achieving the same result as _her_ mystical attire disappeared and was replaced by her skirt and midriff-exposing top.

Mirta rubbed her head softly as a light headache had then begun to form, her face a bit apprehensive as all of the confidence she'd previously felt seemed to have mysteriously vanished alongside her newfound magical abilities.

"I . . . well, yeah, I _kind _of remember, I guess," she hesitantly replied, looking from Flora to Bloom. "But what I --"

"-- Mirta . . . are you . . . I mean . . . You aren't . . ." Mirta could hear and immediately recognize Lucy's voice awkwardly sound from behind her.

Whirling around in surprise, Mirta grinned enthusiastically at her best friend (who had discarded her tutu and returned to her beige colored tank top and teal skirt), happy to see that she was unharmed (or so she at least _appeared_, physical-wise).

"_Lucy!_ You're _okay!_ I'm _so _glad!" she cried, unable to stop herself from rushing to the taller girl and abruptly enveloping her into a broad and generous hug. "I'd thought . . . I mean . . . after what happened to you . . . I'm just happy I'd _found_ you!"

Expecting the viridian haired girl to either push her away or not return the embrace (as she normally never would, for the most part), Mirta felt overwhelmed with emotion as she surprisingly felt Lucy hesitantly and awkwardly wrap her arms around her to reciprocate the gesture.

". . . I . . . I'm fine . . . I guess . . . I couldn't take the laughing anymore, you know? So I went back to my dressing room to cool down. And after calming down for a bit, I made my way outside through the side exits over there," she began, pointing one hand over her shoulder towards the stadium and a side, shaded area from where she'd suddenly emerged. ". . . And that's when I saw _you_ . . . actually confronting the Senior Witches . . ."

At this, Mirta let go of her friend and blinked in surprise.

"You . . . saw . . . everything? Everything that'd happened?" she asked indecisively, unsure of what to feel at that moment. As much as she cared for her, Lucy was the absolute last person whom Mirta would have wished to have witness her inscrutable, supernatural transformation -- since Lucy undeniably despised fairies so much. And because the redhead had been so busy defending the girl's honor, she hadn't even bothered to stop and truly think of what repercussions it might have upon their _already_ tumultuous friendship.

Whether she was ready or wanted to know or not, Mirta was about to find out.

For, as soon as the front doors to the Miss Magix arena opened and the first wave of audience members began to at last cascade out, Lucy's formerly even countenance melted into one of profound abhorrence.

"Yeah! I_ did!_ And I'm not at _all _surprise, either, because you'd _always_ been so _different!_" she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "_Once_ a fairy-lover, _always_ a fairy-lover! And_ now_ you're an actual fairy, _yourself!_"

Taken aback, Mirta could only shake her head slowly in confusion, disbelief and brokenhearted as she she'd managed to merely utter,

"B-but . . . _what? _Lucy, I --"

"-- From here on out, consider us _enemies_, pixie! Have fun hanging out at your _beloved_ Alfea with your _stupid_ new fairy pals! _Loser!_"

And with the snap of her fingers, Lucy suddenly vanished within the blink of an eye, leaving behind only a small billow of dark teal colored smoke in her wake.

"Lucy, _wait!_" cried Mirta over the small collective of startled gasps from passersby who'd not been expecting such vanishing theatrics as they continued to exit the stadium. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. After all that she'd risked and thankfully accomplished that evening . . . Avenging Lucy upon her behalf, and her appearing to have actually witnessed the entire ordeal as well as what had been said (thus proving to Lucy that Mirta was indeed _not_ as spineless as they'd both previously assumed) . . . now it was unbearably apparent that the retreated witch was soundly out for the redhead's blood in such a drastic one-eighty affect from her previously docile demeanor . . .

"How . . . how could this be?" murmured Mirta in a despondent daze, as more and more individuals steadily passed and head within different directions. She felt Flora gently place a consoling palm upon her arm as she slowly turned her around to face her.

"Hey . . . I'm _so_ sorry, sweetie . . . If I'd have known that that's how your reunion with your . . . friend would have done, then Bloom and I would've spoken up sooner . . . But we'd both wanted you two to have some privacy . . ." she said solemnly, before gently lifting up Mirta's now inclined head with her slender, tanned finger. ". . . But you're _not_ a loser! You're _amazing_ . . .! _Please _don't let her get you down . . ."

Bloom nodded in wholehearted agreement.

"Flora's right, Mirta -- on _all_ counts! That was _not _fair of Lucy to treat you that way, and if we'd _had_ known that that was what she was going to do, then Flora and I _definitely_ would have had your back -- like _you_ had _ours!_" encouraged Bloom, resting her _own_ hand upon Mirta's wrist with a growing smile. "You're anything _but_ a loser! Not especially since you helped to bring down the Senior Witches! _Now_, we can --! _Hey! _Where'd they _go?_"

At this, all three gentlewomen looked within the direction where Icy, Darcy, and Stormy had all laid, unconscious, not moments before, and were surprised to find the area empty as audience members walked by it, unaware of what had transpired within that very spot earlier on.

"They're _gone!_" gasped Flora in alarm, as Bloom frowned in frustration, and Mirta's expression had merely remained just as sullen as before.

"I _knew_ that we should have kept a better watch of them! But I'm _sure_ that we'll _undoubtedly _run into them again in the future -- and, knowing them, they _definitely_ won't take this lying down . . . even though they technically already _have_," joked Bloom halfheartedly, trying to lighten the mood at the same time that her other remaining best friends, Musa and Tecna, had suddenly emerged from the building as the last members of the audience to do so.

In between the pair was the pageant's winner and fellow comrade, the newly crowned Stella.

"Ah!_ There_ you girls are! We've been looking all _over_ for you! Well, _after_ my rightful crowning and press conference. Oh! And publicity shoot, of _course!_" said the mesmerizing blonde with her usually exuberant confidence, as she approached her two formerly missing-in-action girlfriends.

It was then that the Solarian woman paused a moment, after she, the other Caucasian female and Asian young woman had each taken notice of Mirta, in addition to the faint but visible bruises that'd remained upon Bloom's body.

". . . Did I miss something, here?" added Stella as an aftereffect, as the orange haired fairy and Flora unanimously let out a weary exhale, while Mirta steadily remained silent and turned her back to them.

In one fell swoop had one heavy burden of never having fit in as a witch been lifted, only to be replaced by a new burden of being an evident fairy -- a fact she might have better enjoyed, had she not lost her one and only confidant in the process.

How would life craft itself for the young Mirta _now?_

_In a moment, everything can change . . ._

**-- The End  
**

* * *

**(A.N. Praise Jeebus. I'm DONE with this was-supposed-to-be-a-quick-story. D.O.N.E. Woo! Yet, NOW I'm kinda tempted, at one of my friend's pleas, as well, LoL to do a mini-series for Mirta and MY version of how progress through Alfea from season 1 to now, etc. But I'm not sure, since there's already another story like that here . . . and he needs to update it, already!! LoL But yeah. We'll see.**

**Hope you enjoyed. And hope you're also happy that I've included the main Winx gals in this part, since that's clearly the reason why this story had been bypassed at first. Ah well. LoL And yes, Flora asking Mirta to not allow Lucy's "loser" comment to get her down and all that jazz IS familiar, because I'd taken it from the final ep in season 1. But that's my fave part in that ep and always makes me get teary-eyed like a geek, because I love Mirta, Flora's such a sweetie-face, and her 4 Kids voice is adorable at that part when she says it. LoL**

**But yeah. Please. PLEASE, I beg of you, do NOT just have "hit" this and/or actually read this story, but not leave a review, okay? Cuz for all the "drama" this finale had caused me to get just right – for me, anyway – I really hope to get SOME sort of feedback and reaction. Thanx!!)**


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